


We Could Be So Far Apart

by orphan_account



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body guard Alexei, Fake Dating, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Original Characters - Freeform, Permanent Injury, Russian Mafia, Slow Burn, amputation recovery, club owner Kent, mentions of non graphic violence, retired Kent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8437738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Kent Parson was hockey.  So when an accident forces him into retirement, he's not sure what to do with his life.  When Swoops talks him into a nightclub, he thinks it's an easy answer.  Until the Mafia gets involved.  After being unintentionally targeted by an enemy of the Mafia, Kent's assigned a bodyguard.  He has no idea what to expect from Alexei Mashkov, but falling in love definitely did not seem like part of the plan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo this prompt came from a bunch of requests that I fic [THIS post](http://maggiecoleownsmysoul.tumblr.com/post/151968480028/why-isnt-there-a-patater-fic-where-kent-is-some): Why isn’t there a Patater fic where Kent is some upstart club owner with connections to the Russian mafia and Tater is his newly assigned bodyguard????
> 
> So I'm shooting for three chapters, but maybe five. But don't quote me on that. I'm definitely excited to write my first multi-chaptered Patater. I'll be cross-posting this on Tumblr as well.

“Look man, I’m not saying that you can’t afford to sit on your ass and do nothing for the rest of your life. I’m just saying that I know you well enough to say it’ll drive you up the fucking wall, and I don’t feel like I have the energy to clean up that mess.”

Kent glowered at his so-called best friend over the table of the bar Jeff had dragged him into. It had been a while since Kent had gone out, mostly because for the better part of the last six months he’d been hopped up on painkillers and medication that was supposed to dull the hurt in the severed nerves in his right leg. Or well—what was left of it.

Six months of drugs and depression, rehab and occupational therapy so Kent could get back up on his proverbial feet. Foot, he’d correct himself if he felt like being an asshole.

And okay he knew it wasn’t the end of the world. With modern technology being what it was, having bionic parts was practically an upgrade. But it didn’t feel like a fucking upgrade when sleepy mornings had him falling on his face because he fucking forgot there wasn’t a leg there where there used to have been.

So forgive him if he was feeling a little morose about the massive change in his life. One moment, of being at the wrong place, at the wrong time, just this side of drunk enough that he couldn’t step back up onto the kerb before the car swerved and hit him, and his life was changed. He lost his leg, and his career, and at times, his sense of self.

He was getting that last one back, bit by bit, as he adjusted.

They amputated two inches above the knee. In the end, though it was an emergency amputation, it was a clean incision and apart from the strange, swooping feeling when he stared down where a leg was supposed to be and saw just empty space, it wasn’t that bad.

The swelling had gone down. He wasn’t in his permanent socket just yet, but he was walking pretty well on his own and on good days he didn’t even need a cane. When he did, he would use the silver-handled pimp cane Swoops had gotten him because the fucker thought he was funny.

In hindsight he was, Kent loved that fucking thing.

Tonight, though, it seemed like Swoops was dead-set on getting Kent back on the right track or whatever wild hair had crawled up his ass. He dragged him to this unknown bar with really bad drinks, and a dingy atmosphere. It was so unlike their usual places that Kent couldn’t figure out what the hell Jeff was up to until…

“So the dude who owned this place just died,” Jeff said, twisting his scotch glass between his fingers. “Brian told me about it. Dude was found shot to death or something.”

“That’s fucking gruesome,” Kent said with a frown, and glanced at his beer bottle like it might have blood spatter on it or something.

“Yeah it was. But like…he also mentioned that the dude’s family are all Russian and they wanna sell the place, you know? So they don’t have to come all the way out here to deal with it?”

“What the fuck does that…” Kent stopped, because he was only a little buzzed so it took him only a few extra seconds to follow what the fuck his friend was saying. “Oh dude, hell no. You want me to buy some shitty fucking bar from a dude who got knocked off in a mafia hit?”

Jeff raised a brow. “It wasn’t a mafia hit, you dramatic fuck. This is vegas. He probably just pissed someone off or whatever. And this place actually could be nice. It’s right off the strip so you’ll have tonnes of foot traffic, and you have the capital to invest. You know Kate? Brian’s girl? She’s all into that interior design shit—like high-end shit, you know? She can hook you up.”

“Jeff,” Kent said tiredly, staring at his friend. “I get what you’re trying to do here, man, but what the fuck do I know about running a club?”

“Nothing,” Jeff said, waving his hand dismissively as though that meant nothing. “That’s kind of my point. What have you done your entire life? Hockey, right? But you shot down PR, coaching, management, training…”

“Because I can’t fucking get on the ice,” Kent said through gritted teeth. “Do you have any idea how much that fucking sucks?”

“No,” Jeff answered with brutal honesty. “And I fucking hope I don’t have to get that shit until I’m like Bad Bob’s age, alright? But I’m making a point here and you keep interrupting.”

Kent rolled his eyes, but waved his hand at his friend to go on.

“You don’t want shit to do with hockey, which whatever. I get it. But you have to do something. All your friends are players, and in a month or so we’re going to be gone or busy all the fucking time. I don’t wanna come home from some roadie and find you dead on the couch with the neighbourhood cats eating you.”

“God, stop watching American Horror Story, you’re getting disgusting,” Kent said, mostly to deflect from the shit Jeff was saying because it was making him feel things.

Jeff shrugged. “You can learn how to do this stuff, Kenny. Like it’s hard, but you fucking study maths for fun. You’re smart as hell, you can do this easy.”

Kent let out a breath, glancing round at the shithole of a place with their piss-beer and well scotch and peeling walls. It looked like nothing more than an epic disaster. He shook his head, glancing back at Jeff. “I get where you’re coming from, but this seems like a bad investment.”

Jeff deflated, but shrugged. “Okay. I won’t get up your ass about it. But promise me you’ll think about it? Like…at least consider taking up knitting or something.”

Kent rolled his eyes, but through a smile said, “Fuck you, Swoops.”

*** 

It took longer than he expected to sign his name on all the papers. How his real-estate agent managed to take care of everything in such a short period of time had been a blur. But suddenly he was signing his name –over and over and over—then he was being given keys and Swoops was meeting him for a tour.

“Fuck dude, you actually did it.”

“If you even think about an I told you so, I’ll fucking kill you and stuff you and use you for decoration,” Kent said as he moved round the bar. They’d shut the place down for renovations. Swoops had put him in touch with a handful of people, so Kent now had a club manager who was handling the business side of things until he learnt it, plus his accountant, and the interior decorator who was going to be gutting the place, and redoing it all.

It was going to be expensive as hell, and the loan was astronomical, but he started to feel a sort of happiness in him he’d been missing for the last year. Knowing he had something to keep him occupied, a purpose beyond being the guy who left the NHL after losing a leg.

He paused, gripping the bar top as his leg was flooded by phantom pain. Toes that were no longer there burned like they were on fire, and he stepped down harder on his prosthetic, taking a few breaths until it passed. It was never really gone, but it eased up after a bit, and he looked back over at Jeff who was watching him with a cautious expression.

“Too much time standing?” he asked.

Kent shook his head. “Come on, I wanna show you my office.”

His office was up a set of stairs, and the room was massive, with a view of the strip. The place was a shithole now, but he’d seen the design mock-ups and he was anxious for the weeks to pass. Jeff had been right about a few things—it was in a great area, and there was a lot of foot traffic. The place had the potential to make him a lot of money, and keep him busy, which was the thing Kent was missing out on most.

“Nice,” Jeff said, coming up next to Kent. “Really man, how does it feel?”

Kent sighed, adjusting his snapback, and pushed his palm against the glass. It was still hot, in spite of it being the middle of the night. “Terrifying,” Kent admitted. “I know I’m good at things besides hockey, but I didn’t think I’d ever have to be. I goddamn well didn’t think I was going to be twenty-eight and taken out because some fuck was texting and driving and ran me down.”

Jeff made a noise in the back of his throat—something like frustration. Of course Kent knew that night was hard for Jeff, too. He’d been there, he’d witnessed the entire thing. He’d held Kent’s body together as they waited for the ambulance. Jeff hadn’t been hurt, but he hadn’t walked away unscathed, either.

“Sorry,” Kent said quietly. “I’m fucking glad you talked me into this. Now we just need to make sure this shit gets popular.”

“Official spot for the NHL,” Jeff said.

Kent elbowed him, but he’d been thinking the same damn thing.

*** 

The night before opening, Kent headed to the bar. It had been renamed, rebranded, redesigned. There had been a massive marketing push, and the week would hold the soft opening until the Aces were back in town, then the grand opening would be an invite-only, massive party and the RSVP list was already brimming with celebrities.

It helped that Kent had been popular during his time as Aces captain, and had rubbed elbows with a lot of the people excited to show up at his new venture. His twitter was bursting at the seams with notifications, and it was doing a little to quell his nerves.

But this would be his first appearance in the public eye since the accident. He’d done exactly two interviews regarding his progress—one with ESPN after his PR agent urged him to let them have a behind the scenes look at his physical therapy—and one with Body Magazine which he did a shoot for bearing all—including his new leg.

He’d gone quiet, and he wasn’t sure he didn’t want to remain that way. He was accepting his new limitations, he was learning to live as himself again, but to be on display and answer invasive questions felt like…

Well it felt like a lot.

Still, it was the choice he was making.

Kent wandered round the quiet, empty club, then slipped out back to make sure the alley had been cleared. There would be a few VIPs parking behind, and the dustbins had been in the way until earlier. He was just poking his head round where the small parking area was when he heard something.

A muffled cry, he thought. 

Kent gripped his cane tightly, and tried to make his steps as quiet as he could. He crept further to where the dustbins had been moved, and peered round.

Up against the wall was a person—teenager by the looks of it, wearing jeans and a plaid shirt. He was shoved up against the wall and the guy—older with black hair and bulky arms, was holding something to the kid’s neck.

A knife, Kent was pretty sure.

His heart beat wildly against his ribs and he thought for a second he might call the cops. Then he realised in that amount of time, the kid would probably be dead. And whatever he’d done, he didn’t deserve this.

Kent really just reacted, when he heard the kid cry out. He leapt forward and his cane went swinging, and it clipped the guy in the elbow. The knife clattered to the floor, and the guy turned with wide eyes. Kent had been confronted with D-men bigger than this dude, and he reacted instinctively.

It was like gloves off. He sucked, then smashed his elbow into the guy’s face. The stranger went to his knees, and Kent grabbed his cane like a hockey stick, and bashed the guy in the back of the head once, twice. And he was down.

Breathing heavy, Kent looked over at the kid who was crouched near the ground, a hand pressed to his neck, and blood was seeping between his fingers. “Fuck,” Kent said. He held out his hand and beckoned him over. “Come on, Jesus. We have to get something on that.”

The kid looked vaguely terrified, but Kent seemed like a safer option, especially as the guy started groaning, like he was coming to. Scrambling up, the teen followed after, and the pair made it inside. Kent quickly locked the door, then led the kid into the main bar area where he went to the second set of entrance doors, and made sure those were bolted as well.

Once he felt like they were safe, he slumped onto a barstool and pulled out his phone. “I gotta call the cops. Then I can see to your neck and…”

“Nyet! Nyet,” the kid said. Kent recognised the Russian, and froze with his finger poised over the emergency button on his phone. The kid looked completely distressed as he pressed his fingers harder against his neck. “No police,” he said. “No.”

Kent hesitated, then slid his phone onto the bar. “You wanna tell me what this was all about, then?”

The kid’s eyes dropped. “I…sorry. No…English?”

“Ah that fucking figures,” Kent said. The kid’s fingers were bright red, so with a sigh, Kent motioned him up. He left his cane resting on the bar as he waved for the kid to follow him into the kitchen. “Come on, I’m not calling the cops. But we gotta check that out,” he pointed to the kid’s neck, and after a second, he was given a curt nod and the teen followed.

Kent had the first aid kit behind near the dish pit, well stocked for any kitchen accidents, and as the kid sat down in a chair, Kent opened it up and grabbed a bunch of wipes, gloves for himself, and a massive plaster. He urged the kid’s hand away, and grimaced. It was bad, it probably could use a stitch or two, but Kent had a feeling if the kid was refusing the cops, he’d probably also refuse a trip to the ER.

“This is going to fucking hurt,” he muttered as he opened up a couple of the sanitising wipes. The kid tilted his chin up, and pulled a face when Kent began to clean it, but he didn’t move away or fight him. It was a blessing, really. Kent got the blood off, then smeared a bit of anti-biotic cream, then smoothed the plaster over the skin. He stepped back, surveying the job done, then shrugged. “Well…you’ll live.”

The kid muttered something in Russian Kent couldn’t even hope to understand, and kicked himself for not bothering to pay closer attention to his Russian teammates beyond hockey terms and pointless chirps.

They stared at each other for a second, then he said, “Alright kid well…what’s your name?” The kid stared at him, so he pointed at himself and said, “Kent Parson.”

There was a light in his eyes as he nodded. “Dmitri Utkin.”

“Cool, cool. Uh. How old are you?”

Dmitri blinked. “Age?” Kent nodded and he shrugged and spouted a word which Kent knew was a number, but no idea which one. “Not know…English.” He then held up all ten fingers, then six more.

“Sixteen,” Kent murmured.

“Sixteen,” Dmitri repeated.

“Too fuckin’ young to drink. At least here in my bar, though I bet you could use a few shots.” He knew Dmitri couldn’t understand him, but he kept going. “I would like to know why the fuck a sixteen year old kid was being held at knifepoint in my alley.” He ignored Dmitri’s inquiring look, then dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “You got family or something you can call?” When Dmitri looked startled. He shook his head, “No police. Uhh. Mama? Papa?”

Dmitri’s eyes widened and he used another word which he was pretty sure meant like Uncle or something. Then he grabbed the phone, dialled, and began a long string of very fast Russian. He was pacing, dragging his hand through his hair, his face red with distress. When he was through, Kent could hear a gruff voice on the other end of the line, and then suddenly Dmitri was holding his phone out. “Here,” he said, and waggled it.

“Fuck,” Kent groaned. He grabbed it and prayed the guy spoke some English. “Uh. Hi. My name is Kent Parson and…”

“You find Mitya?”

Kent realised he was probably talking about Dmitri. “Oh. Uh, yeah I did. He asked me not to call the cops which I’m still not sure about. I mean I kind of knocked that guy out and…”

“You have Pasha’s club.”

It was then Kent made the connection. The guy who’d been murdered’s name was all over the papers he had to sign. Pavel Utkin. Shit. “Oh god. Uh. Yeah, I do. Look man, is there any way you can tell me why the fuck some sixteen year old kid was stabbed behind my club? Because this is not the way I wanted to start my grand opening and…”

“You keep him,” the guy said. “Please. I will be there in twenty minutes. We talk then.”

“Uh.” Kent scrubbed a hand down his face, then glanced over where Dmitri was rummaging through the walk-in pantry. “Yeah okay, man. Just ring the buzzer and I’ll let you in. Actually if you could like call me too, so I know it’s you? I kind of left that dude in the alley and I’m not super anxious to go back out there.”

“Is fine, I ring buzzer, I call. I bring protection with me, so no worries. Thank you Mr Parson.”

“Kent is fine. And it’s no worries, man. I guess I’m just glad he’s okay.”

They rang off, then Kent shoved his phone back into his pocket and walked over to one of their smaller freezers he’d seen his new chef storing hot pockets in. They were fucking disgusting, but they’d do, and he waved the box at the kid. “Hungry?”

The kid nodded, so Kent opened up two and shoved them into the microwave. He held up his finger for the kid to wait, then wandered behind the bar, grabbing a beer for himself out of the small fridge, and filled up a pint glass with coke from the soda gun. He walked back into the kitchen as the microwave dinged, and set the drinks down.

Dmitri eyed the beer and Kent laughed. “Yeah right. In this country you have to be twenty-one.” He shoved the coke at him and ignored his disappointed sigh as he went to grab their subpar dinner. Kent sat it down on the line, pulling another chair over, and they dug in.

Dmitri ate hungrily, like maybe he hadn’t done that in a few days. He looked well dressed, but a bit scruffy, and Kent had a sudden feeling that maybe Dmitri had been into some shit before this. He sighed. “Your dad. Papa,” Kent said.

Dmitri said a word in Russian, then frowned and said, “Die.”

Kent nodded. “Uh. This was his club.” He waved his hand around, and Dmitri shrugged. “How long have you been here. In the United States?”

Licking his lips Dmitri took a long drink before he answered. “I’m here one months,” he held up one finger, then shrugged. “Mama die. Fly…plane,” he made a flying motion with his hand. “Papa die.” He shrugged.

“And uh that guy you called?” Kent pulled out his phone and tapped it. “Family?”

Dmitri nodded, but didn’t give any answer in either language.

“Well fuck kid, I’m sorry, that sucks.”

“Sucks?” Dmitri repeated.

Kent laughed. “Yeah uh…it means bad. No good,” he did a wild, ugly face and pointed down with his thumb.

Dmitri laughed. “I like…word. Sucks.” He pointed at his neck. “Sucks.”

“Yeah that’s more like fucked, bro,” Kent said with a shrug. “Fucked up.”

“Fucked up,” the kid repeated.

Kent laughed harder and pinched the bridge of his nose. “God your uncle or godfather or whatever, is going to fucking kill me for teaching you nothing but English swear words.” He then jumped a food in the air when his phone began to buzz. He saw the unfamiliar number, then held up his hand as he answered it and hurried into the main bar. “Yeah?”

“Is Viktor. Here for Mitya. He not leave?”

“No uh…hang on a second, are you at the club’s main door?”

“Am walking up now,” Viktor said. Then there was a knocking, and Kent cursed himself for not having a window or something he could peek out of. He said a small prayer, then opened it.

The dude on the step was definitely not the guy from the alley, but no less terrifying, and he wasn’t alone. He was tall, at least six-two, and he looked a lot like the kid with his wide-set eyes and large nose. The one behind him was even bigger, if that were possible. Taller by a couple inches, broad shoulders, a sharply cut jawline. He had soft, brown curls which hung near his ears, and soft but intense brown eyes. He would have made a decent D-man, Kent thought absently as he stepped aside to let them in.

He quickly ended the call and shoved his phone in his pocket as he extended his hand. “Hi. Uh, I’m Kent, I found the kid.”

“Viktor,” the man said, shaking Kent’s hand in a firm grip. When Kent’s eyes flickered to the other man, Viktor looked back and said, “Ah. This is Alexei. He is protection.”

Kent’s eyes went wide when he realised protection meant bodyguard. Which probably meant his joke from before had been fucking right and if this wasn’t mafia, it was something like it. _Jesus, Jeff, what did you get me into?_ He almost laughed when he thought what Jeff’s reaction was going to be the second Kent told him all this shit.

“So uh. He’s in the kitchen. He seemed a little out of sorts,” Kent said. “Can I get either of you a drink?”

“I’m drive,” Viktor said, then turned back and said something to Alexei in Russian, who then shook his head. “Just water for me.”

Kent nodded, then went behind the bar, ignoring the sudden twinging in his stump, and the desire to get home and just take his fucking leg off and forget any of this happened. He was still technically on light duty and he was pretty sure that tackling some asshole in the alley trying to kill some kid was against those orders.

But he tried not to show it as he filled a chilled glass with water and handed it over. Viktor slid onto a bar stool, looking casual and collected—which was the opposite of how Kent felt. “My nephew,” Viktor began, then stopped, barked something at Alexei, who gave a stern nod then hurried through the kitchen doors. Kent watched him go, but was drawn back to Viktor when he started speaking. “My brother have not hear from his son in a long time. I find out about his mother, but when I send someone looking, he is missing.”

“He kinda told me he flew here? Like a month ago.”

Viktor nodded, rubbing his face. “He call. He find number and call, but when he hear about Pasha he…is upset.”

“Yeah,” Kent said with a sigh. “Can I uh…can I ask you something? I won’t…I’m not gonna make a big deal out of it but uh…your family are they…?”

Viktor regarded him coolly, then shrugged. “Yes,” he said. “Is not like movies, not…silly like movies, but yes. Pasha, he get involved with some people, bad people. Make some of them angry. They are…not like Eastern Europeans, these people,” Viktor said with a shrug. “Pasha has bad temper, and he was killed.”

“Jesus,” Kent said.

Viktor nodded, then gave Kent a level stare. “The man who come at Mitya, he is with them.”

“Yeah,” Kent said slowly. “Not surprised.”

“Now you help Mitya, save his life.”

Kent shrugged. “He’s a kid. That was pretty fucked, you know. He looked terrified and I just…” Kent didn’t really know how to finish his sentence, so he shrugged. “My year’s been pretty fucked up, anyway.”

Viktor nodded. “I read about you when you buy club. Hit by car, accident. Lose your leg?”

Kent bit his lip hard, then nodded. “Yeah.”

“You were Aces Captain? I follow mostly Pens, but like Aces. Good to Russian players, that team.”

Kent flushed. “I liked all my guys.”

A small smile flitted across Viktor’s face and he nodded. “Good to my nephew too. So I give you protection.”

“Oh that’s not…”

“Pasha refuse me too,” Viktor said darkly, “and they come for him. So if you not want retaliation, not want to be shot, you accept.”

Kent felt a stab of fear as he realised that he really did just jump into some potentially fucked up shit, and if this guy really was offering protection, he should really, probably take it. “Yeah I…alright. Can I like…pay for it or…?”

Viktor laughed and shook his head. “You pay for it already, helping Mitya.” He drained the water in several gulps, then pushed himself off the stool. “I go make phone call, then I take Mitya home. Thank you, Kent. Family is everything, you know?”

Kent let out a shuddering breath, then nodded. “Yeah man. I get it. And uh…thanks for the help.” He watched as Viktor waved off the thanks, then went for the door and stepped outside. Kent felt a wave of paranoia about letting Viktor just stand out there, but he realised after a second Viktor probably had more than the giant man in the kitchen.

Which reminded him…

He crept over, then pushed the kitchen door open to find Alexei with his arm round Dmitri, hugging him. Dmitri was crying into his chest, looking young and devastated. Kent stepped back, feeling a shock run through him because he knew what that loss felt like. He remembered the day his dad died, leaving him with his hot mess of a mother who could never, ever let things go.

Turning back to the bar, Kent busied himself with cleaning up until Viktor returned. By then, Dmitri and Alexei had come into the main area, and Alexei was eyeing Kent carefully. The gaze was…intense, at the very least, and Kent did his best not to stare at the guy. He always had a thing for big dudes, and now was not the time.

Viktor was speaking with Dmitri in fast Russian for a bit, then he turned to Kent and offered his hand. “We will go now. Alexei will take you home, keep you safe.”

Kent blinked. “What’s happening, now?” His gaze flickered to Alexei who seemed completely unbothered, and Kent had to wonder if he knew, or maybe he just didn’t speak English. Or maybe he was just used to following blind orders.

“Alexei, he is best protection. You have car, or I send for one?”

“Uhh,” Kent said, still in a bit of shock, “I uh. I have my car.”

“Good. Alyosha,” Viktor barked, then went off on his instructions.

Unable to stop himself, Kent watched wide eyed as Alexei listened, then nodded, replying in a deep, voice, rich but sand-paper rough and Kent hated himself for liking it in a moment like this. _What the fuck, Parse._

“I check in with you soon. You save number, you call if you need anything.” Viktor yanked him into a half hug, then patted his cheek.

“Uh yeah uh…” was all he could manage.

Alexei followed Viktor out, and Kent stood in shock for so long, the giant man returned with a bag slung over his shoulder. He eyed Kent for a long time, then said, “When we leave?”

His accent was nearly as thick as Dmitri’s, but it was clear he spoke better English. Kent gathered himself, then let out a breath. “Uhh, yeah just…let me lock up and get the alarm.”

Alexei gave him one, stiff nod, then waited with crossed arms as Kent retrieved his cane, then shut off the lights. The alarm panel was by the front door which was good for him, because he damn well knew he wasn’t going to be moving swiftly on his leg. He punched in the alarm code, then opened the door, and locked it behind him.

“Keys,” came a stiff command.

Kent found himself passing them over, then pointed a finger up the street. “That’s me. The red uh. The red car.” He stuck close to Alexei, but peered down the alley as they passed by. There was no sign of the unconscious stranger, or that there had even been a scuffle.

Alexei grunted. “Not there. We clean up mess.”

“Oh. Right. Good.” Kent had never felt more fucking intimidated in his life as he moved to the car. He waited for Alexei to unlock it, and then he slid into the seat with a groan. Laying his head back on the plush leather, he massaged round the socket of his prosthetic and tried not to feel Alexei’s eyes on him.

“You have GPS?” Alexei asked. “Or give directions?” When he started the car, Kent punched his address into the GPS panel, and then closed his eyes again.

Neither of them said a word as Alexei pulled out onto the street. As the buildings went by, Kent became profoundly aware that his entire life had just changed. Profoundly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note- I'm updating my other Zimbits wip after this, then I'll be taking a short break to finish up a couple of assignment fics before I'm back with an update. Shouldn't take longer than a week!

Kent could feel the massive guy at his back as he fumbled with his key. His leg felt like it was on fire, toes he no longer had tingling and burning, and all he wanted was to pop a few pills and crawl into his bed. But that all seemed…well, difficult, he thought, considering a complete stranger was following him into his apartment.

He wasn’t exactly sure what to expect with the whole protection thing, and so far he could tell that this guy—Alexei—had no intention of leaving him on his own. It felt a bit weird, having no actual say-so, but he figured if someone from the fucking Mafia told him to keep this guy close well…he was going to listen. Kent did not want to end up like the former club owner.

That, of course, was a whole other issue in itself. He was glad Dmitri had family here, because the kid looked wrecked. And he couldn’t quite get the image of Dmitri crying into Alexei’s shirt. Clearly they had ties—maybe they were family, but Kent was a little too terrified of the stoic man at his heels to actually ask. But whatever it was, clearly they were all close and Kent held out hope the kid was going to get the help he needed. And the support.

With a sigh, he finally got his door open. He muttered an apology for how he had ceased to function like a rational person, and he flicked on the living room lights. He glanced round for Kit, but there was every chance at the presence of a stranger, she was going to wedge herself under a piece of furniture and refuse to come out.

Which was just as well.

“You’re not allergic to cats, are you?” Kent asked

Alexei merely stared at him, and when it became clear he either didn’t want to answer or didn’t understand him, Kent just sighed and shrugged. He threw his keys into the bowl beside the door, locked up, then turned back to his new bodyguard.

“Uh. So. I’m gonna shower and stuff. There’s like…food. Water. Beer.” He pulled his snapback off and ruffled his hat-destroyed hair. “Are you like…staying?”

Alexei stared at him again, and just before Kent could growl in frustration from the utter and complete lack of communication, he grunted out, “Yes, I stay. Protect.”

“Right,” Kent said. “Well couch is all yours. There’s a cupboard in the hall there with like extra pillows and shit. I assume you sleep?” It was kind of a question, but he didn’t expect an answer and Alexei didn’t give one. “If you need me I’m…I’ll just be down there.”

With that, he leant hard on his cane and all but stumbled into his bedroom. He was grateful his shower was in his bedroom. It made the whole process easier of not having to be anywhere but behind his closed door. He twisted the lock, then moved to his dresser to grab a pair of pyjama bottoms and a worn Aces tee. Taking his crutches, he leant them against the bed, then slipped out of his jeans and kicked them off to the side.

His leg was aching, the socket pressing uncomfortably into his skin, and when he eased it off and rolled his sock down, he let out an audible sigh. The cool air felt good, his skin manky and sweaty. The smell of his compression sock had a faint odour of latex and silicone which turned his stomach. It made him think of the hospital, and recovery, and everything else he didn’t like remembering.

He felt vaguely proud of himself for how he managed to hold it together, and the fact that he’d taken down some fucking like mob assassin or some shit in an alley way and saved a kid’s life. Then again, the consequences of all that seemed pretty fucked. He didn’t want to think about how he’d gone from Aces Captain to amputee with a potential price on his head.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself. Grabbing his phone, he pinched it between his chin and his neck, then used his crutches to head into the bathroom. Closing the door, he started his shower, then sat on the closed lid of the toilet and opened up his messages. Clicking on Jeff’s name, he sighed and stared at the screen, not quite sure what to say.

**Dude, the minute you have free time, I need your ass at the club. I had a fucked up night.**

Only seconds passed before he got a reply.

_Whats up bro?_

**I literally cannot tell you over text or phone. Just, when can you come around?**

_I got some paperwork shit with PR so I’m flying out on the red-eye Thursday. You want me to swing by tomorrow before I head to the airport?_

**Yeah. Yeah, I do. Fuck Jeff, I fucked up this time.**

_Did you kill someone? Drug deal go bad? Fuck a Trump?_

**Jesus Christ. No just…I’ll see you tomorrow. Right now I’m gonna shower and pop a couple pills and try and sleep this night off. Talk later.**

_If you need me, I’m here._

Kent was way too tempted to let it all spill, so he threw his phone onto the counter, braced his arm against the wall, then hopped over to the shower where he dropped his t-shirt and boxers, and slid the door back. It took a little manoeuvring to get in, but soon enough he was sat on his shower chair and letting the hot water rain down on him.

It was soothing, and a little distracting, though Kent was fairly sure there wasn’t anything on the fucking planet that could really take away from his night. It hadn’t even fully sunk in, what he’d got himself into. Jesus. He grabbed a shampoo bar, some shit with cinnamon that he actually hated, but it was the closest thing he could reach, and quickly soaped up.

Normally he liked to linger, but knowing there was some stranger out there with Kit roaming around and possibly going through all his shit made him nervous. He quickly rinsed off, then stood up and grabbed his towel before hopping out. Drying off, he wrapped the towel round his waist, ran a comb through his hair, took his pill with a palm full of water from the tap, then swung the door open before going for his crutches.

He was a handful of steps into his room before he froze and said, “Oh shit,” at the sight of Alexei holding a fucking _gun_ and peering into his closet. “What the fuck, man?”

“Am checking apartment,” Alexei grunted.

“Dude like…I get it. Constant vigilance,” he paused to see if the dude got the reference but if he did, he didn’t say, and Kent deflated a bit. “Anyway like, I don’t think anyone had time to hide in my damn closet.”

Alexei turned, then gave Kent a pointed look. His gaze lingered on the crutches, then on Kent’s leg, and Kent felt his entire face go bright red. Alexei looked away quickly. “I’m check rest of apartment, then get rest. Secure enough, I think.”

He left, shutting the door, and it wasn’t until Kent was sat on his bed again he realised he had no fucking idea how the hell that guy got into the room in the first place. 

By the time he was dressed and curled up under his covers—not bothering with the lock again because obviously that was pointless—Kit had emerged and curled herself up near his foot. He sighed, giving her a few scratches before switching on his TV, putting the volume as low as he could, then pushed his face into the pillow.

He had very little hope of sleeping, but it was a strange comfort, he thought, knowing some guy had literally been ordered to save his life.

*** 

In spite of Kent’s stress, exhaustion, and medication, he woke at the crack of dawn. He could see the pale purple of the pre-dawn sky through the crack in his curtains, and he eased himself up from his pillows. His shoulders ached from the tension the night before, and he thought for a minute he might try and grab a massage before the soft opening.

It wasn’t going to be a massive thing, but there was every chance his club would have a queue round the block considering all the PR the firm had done to advertise the opening. Which, he then realised, was probably not going to be great if some dude wanted to kill him.

Fuck.

Dragging his fingers through his hair, Kent stared at his leg which was resting against his nightstand and sighed at it. His stump was still aching, but there was no way he was going to stay on crutches all morning, especially with Alexei in the house.

Kent rummaged through his drawer for a fresh sock, wincing as he rolled it onto his leg, then eased it into the socket. He pulled himself to a stand as he adjusted everything, then tested himself with a few steps. Mornings still felt him a little off balance. Learning to navigate his steps with his hip rather than his knee was still new, and he was still getting used to the way his artificial knee bent.

His limp was pronounced, but his pyjama bottoms hung over it, so at least it wouldn’t be as obvious as he had been when Alexei had walked in on him after the shower. Kent didn’t entirely mind the prosthetic. It was a fuck of a lot cooler than a human leg, if he was being honest, and the doctors had told him as soon as he had decent walking balance, he could try skating again. He’d likely never go back to professional hockey, but knowing there would be a day he got to set foot on the ice meant everything.

With a sigh, Kent grabbed his phone, then headed out of his room with extreme caution. Paranoia had him believing he was going to walk into the lounge to find Alexei sat up in his chair, stoic face, gun resting in his hand. 

Instead he found Alexei curled with his long legs drawn up into a foetal position, a thin blanket pulled up along his side, and Kit tucked under one arm, purring so loudly Kent could hear her from across the room.

“Traitor,” he muttered.

She murred at him, and Alexei grumbled and tucked the cat closer.

Kent didn’t want to take the chance of finding the giant possible-murder-for-hire guy adorable, so he turned away as quickly as he could, and made his way into the kitchen. He got coffee going first thing, then rummaged round for something he could call breakfast. Unfortunately a stale loaf of bread and a dodgy, brown banana wasn’t exactly appetising, and reminded him he’d been doing a goddamn lot of eating out.

He mentally added a trip to the supermarket to all the shit he had to get done—not that it would be top priority, but he realised he might be housing this guy for. Well. The indefinite future? He realised also that a phone call to his new friend Viktor was probably going to be necessary.

Shit.

When the coffee was done, there was no real noise from the living room apart from Kit finally divesting herself of the giant man, and standing up on her little princess stool. Kent wanted to be annoyed, but he loved the little shit too much to really care, and he grabbed her container of too damn expensive, grain-free, all raw food from the fridge and spooned out her morning portion. He scratched her on the head, then grabbed his coffee and peered his head into the living room.

He expected to find Alexei still asleep, but yet again, he was wrong about the other man. Kent’s mouth instantly went dry as he became Sahara Desert levels of thirsty. Alexei was in joggers and a loose tank top, and was doing push-ups beside the coffee table. Rapid, up and down, his biceps flexing in the soft morning light filtering through Kent’s sheer curtains.

When Alexei turned his head mid push-up, he caught Kent’s gaze, and Kent’s face immediately went red. He backed up, stumbling over himself a little, and caught the counter to steady his flailing leg. He regained his composure as quickly as he could, pressing his fingertips to the hot mug, and slid onto one of the breakfast bar stools.

Several moments passed, then Alexei walked in and helped himself to the fridge without looking over. He pulled out a bottle of water, cracked the top, then turned. “You have morning work-out routine?”

Kent blinked. “Ah. Uh. Not exactly?” He bit his lip, then said, “After my accident I um. Well I have to do a lot of physical therapy, but my leg and hip aren’t ready for running and shit so uh…I lift weights? At the gym. My building has a gym so like…if you wanted to go down there…” He stopped, realising he was rambling, and he quickly swallowed another mouthful of coffee.

Alexei gave him a long, slow look. “Is recent? Your leg?”

Kent felt something twist in his chest, not really pleasant, but oddly not entirely unpleasant either. And possibly it was the absolute honest look on Alexei’s face that took the sting out of it. “Sort of? Like almost a year. I should be able to function pretty normally once my body you know…adjusts.”

Alexei nodded, then, his expression almost like he did know which confused Kent, but he was too intimidated by this guy. Especially when he remembered what the guy did for a living. 

“Um. Do you want coffee?” Kent asked.

Alexei looked over at the Keurig, then shrugged. “Water is fine. We go eat. You are having no food.”

Kent wanted to protest. He wanted to tell this guy he certainly couldn’t shadow Kent’s steps every second of every day but it seemed like, at least for the present time, that’s exactly what he meant to do. So whatever. Kent should at least get a decent breakfast out of it, and he was seriously craving eggs benny from the little granola hippy place not far.

“Yeah just let me get dressed,” Kent said, and left the unspoken, ‘you can get dressed too’ in the air. He headed back to his room and threw on jeans and a t-shirt, grabbed a snapback so he wouldn’t have to fuck with his hair, and eventually found a pair of shoes he didn’t hate. 

By the time he was ready and had his phone, Alexei was dressed again, same as he had been before with the dark jacket and the open collar—Kent could even see a gold chain round his neck, _Jesus Christ_ , and was stood by the door.

“Are you…fuck you have like a gun, don’t you?”

Alexei raised a brow at him. “How I’m supposed to shoot at someone trying to shoot you without gun?”

Kent felt really…weird about that, and tried not to guess where Alexei was hiding it as he locked up. When they reached the lift, he jabbed the button, then turned to Alexei. “You don’t really, seriously think someone’s actually coming after me.”

Alexei’s face went dark, drawn for a moment, then he shrugged as the doors dinged open, and Kent hit the button for the ground floor. “People who come for Pasha—they not good people. I not trust you will be safe. So I make you safe.”

Kent licked his lips, then asked, “Did you uh…did you know him really well? Pasha?”

Alexei grunted once, his face showing clearly he didn’t want to answer that. And Kent got it. Hell, the moment anyone mentioned a last name starting with a Z around him, Kent still got edgy, and he and Jack had been friends again for a few years now. Hell, Kent attended his damn wedding.

But some wounds never really healed, and he wasn’t about to pour salt in Alexei’s, whatever it was.

“I’m sorry, man,” Kent said quietly as they moved into the lobby. “Losing someone like that is…I can’t even imagine.”

“You never have friend who die?” Alexei wondered.

Kent let out a breath. “No. But I had someone I loved a lot almost die and I don’t think I could have handled more than that.”

He looked over and saw Alexei watching him. Their steps slowed, then stilled, then Alexei nodded and quickly led the way to the car.

Once again, to Kent’s chagrin, Alexei insisted on driving. As he got in, he huffed a little as he snapped his buckle into place. “How the fuck are you gonna shoot the bad guys if you’re also trying to navigate shitty Vegas traffic.”

Alexei’s mouth twitched into a half smile, and he shrugged. “I’m best multi-tasker. Can give Fast and Furious run for monies.”

Kent stared, then burst into unexpected laughter. “Oh my _god_.”

At that, Alexei gave him a real, and genuine smile which made Kent’s heart flutter. It changed his entire face, and Kent found himself wanting to see it more. “Don’t worry, no one shoot at us during day. More like they take you, put you in van, never see you again. I stop that.”

Kent immediately sobered when he realised Alexei was telling the truth, and he found himself suddenly and profoundly grateful the man was here. He had no idea what he would have done on his own. The thanks got stuck in his mouth though, his tongue frozen, and the moment passed.

Instead he gave directions to the restaurant, and was grateful it was nearly empty as they grabbed a table near the window. Kent picked up his menu, hiding his face until he heard Alexei ask, “What food tasting good here?”

Kent peered over and saw Alexei smiling at him and fuck. _He’s probably killed a man, Parse. Like, probably a dozen men. Get it together._

“Uh. I always come for the eggs benny. It’s not like the normal shit, the sauce is to die for. But uhhh, if you want something else…?”

“Is fine with me.” Alexei shut his menu with a purposeful snap and laid it on the table, hands folded on top. “Maybe next time I find place with Russian food. You have tasted?”

“No uh,” Kent said, fidgeting. “Like maybe? I mean, some of the guys I used to play with would bring shit in sometimes their wives would make. Like those little pancake things…”

“Blinis,” Alexei said with a happy nod. “My mama is make best ones. I find good place here, we try it.”

Kent tried not to think of the long-term implications of Alexei’s statement. What did that mean, anyway? He had a sudden thought—what if this was the rest of his life? Like sure maybe they could get that one guy taken care of but after that? Was it like the movies? You take down the head and the rest falls? Or was Kent going to be marked forever.

He startled when the server approached, and she gave them a careful look before asking, “What are you having?”

Absently, Kent ordered for them both. “Two eggs benny, and do you still have that Italian import coffee?”

“Yeah,” she said, scribbling in her server book.

“Okay two of that.” Kent handed off the menus, and when she walked away, his gaze snapped up to Alexei. “Shit. Sorry I didn’t ask. Do you drink coffee?”

“Sometimes. Is fine,” Alexei assured him.

Kent nodded, and tried to calm himself down. Alexei was…a juxtaposition of a human being. Massive and terrifying looking and stoic and carried a gun and had probably killed people. But he had a smile like the sun and a body Kent wanted to climb like a fucking tree, and eyes so soft and brown, Kent could get lost in them for days.

He stared at the massive hands folded on the table and let himself wonder, only for a second, what they might feel like wrapped around him.

He shivered, then shook his head. “So uh. Can I ask how Dmitri is doing? He seemed pretty freaked.”

Alexei’s face hardened, then he let out a breath. “He is suffer a little. Sad,” he added with a shrug. “Better now that he find Viktor.”

Kent nodded. “That was pretty fucked, man.” He went quiet when the server dropped off the coffees and cream, and he quickly dumped several spoons of the grainy, raw sugar into the dark brew before stirring. He watched Alexei take a drink of his—black—then give an approving nod. “No kid should be caught up in all that.”

“Is why Pasha not bring him. He is not knowing Nadia would…” Alexei trailed off, his cheeks going pink. “Mitya okay now, with uncle.”

Kent sipped his coffee again, then glanced out the window. “I mean I know it’s pretty pointless since he doesn’t speak English really and my Russian is like, _“Go left, shoot shoot you fucker!_ ”

Alexei laughed at Kent’s butchered attempt at his language. “Is not bad. Accent can use work,” he chirped.

Kent pinked. “Shut up, what do you want from me, it was hockey.”

Alexei merely grinned and shrugged.

“Anyway,” Kent said, staring at him and daring him to keep chirping, “I just…I know what it’s like to lose a parent. You know? It fucking sucks so like if he ever needs anything or whatever…” Kent didn’t really know where he was going with it, so he just trailed off.

There was a long silence, carrying on past when their food was dropped off and Kent took his first bite of the poached egg. Then Alexei sighed and said, “I’m think you maybe foolish. Attack stranger in alley for what? Put your life at risk?” Kent opened his mouth to defend himself, but Alexei went on, “But now I’m think you decent guy. Mitya lucky to be there that night. Other guy, probably just leave him there. Call police. Make more danger. Trouble,” he said, waving his fork, then stabbed the yolk of his egg. He sighed, then said, “Thank you.”

Kent felt his cheeks bloom hot, and he couldn’t look up. “He’s just a fucking kid. I really shouldn’t be thanked.”

Alexei made a derisive sound, but didn’t say anything else, and they finished their meal in silence.

*** 

They got home from the supermarket an hour after breakfast, and as Kent put his things away, Alexei scoured the place from top to bottom with, yet again, his gun drawn. The sight of it was both disturbing and a little sexy, which made Kent uncomfortable all over again.

He watched as Alexei checked his weapon, and the bullets inside, then tucked it back somewhere near his waist.

“Uh if you want like, a nap or shower,” Kent said, “you’re welcome to it.”

Alexei hummed. “I’m think I need to get clothes. Supplies.”

Kent bit his lip, then blurted, “How long are you going to be here?”

“Long as I need to,” Alexei said simply. “I’m protect you.”

“Even if that’s like…forever?” Kent asked.

“No one live forever,” Alexei said.

Kent blinked, then couldn’t help himself—he laughed. He gripped the counter and was overcome by giggles. “God. Fuck, Alexei. I’m gonna end up some like shrivelled old man with you living in my fucking guest room with a cane and arthritis going through every room checking for some long dead asshole who might have wanted to kill me once. That’s what’s gonna happen.”

Alexei half-smirked and shrugged a shoulder. “Is okay. Am very quiet. Like little mouse.” He winked then, and Kent thought he might have momentarily gone into cardiac arrest. “I’m shower though. You keep doors locked. Not answer without me.”

Kent crossed his finger over his heart. “Scouts honour and all that.”

Alexei lifted a brow. “You not scout.”

Kent snorted and grabbed a packet of cheesy crisps, leaning heavily on his natural leg, the pressure in his prosthetic getting to be a bit much. “Fucking right I wasn’t. I had better things to do than camping.”

“Like?” Alexei asked as he stripped off his jacket and laid it on the chair.

Kent flopped on the couch. “Like playing fucking hockey. Towels are in the cabinet above the toilet. Use whatever you need.”

“Thank you,” Alexei said, then walked down the hall and shut the door.

When Kent heard the shower start, he reached into his pocket and flicked through his contacts. Fuck, he needed…something. He wasn’t sure what. A confidant, which was stupid because how exactly could he explain this?

The top of his list had Bittle, and the bottom had Zimms and he knew if he told either one of those fuckers, they’d try to get involved or call the police or some shit, and Kent knew that would end in disaster. He trusted Jeff, but he wouldn’t be seeing him until tonight.

His sister was his next best option, but he couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t panic. Kent had all-but been her parent most of her life, and she got a little protective of him.

So.

He sighed and flicked open his twitter. _@KParseNHL- Having the weirdest week of my life, but looking forward to my club opening tonight. Who’s gonna show?_

Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he flicked to ESPN and waited until the game’s highlights were on. He tried to ignore the sting of longing, and focus on pride when they showed Zimms’ celly after his hat trick.

His life wasn’t terrible without hockey. But Jesus, he missed it.

*** 

By the time Alexei finished with his shower, Kent had dropped off, and he woke a few hours later with his back aching, and a sticky patch of drool on his left cheek. He swiped it away, sitting up with a groan, and his eyes flicked over to Alexei who was on the armchair, Kit perched on his knee, and a book in his hand.

Kent lifted a brow. “Normally she hates strangers.”

Alexei looked over the top of his book, and gave Kit an absent scratch. “Cats love me.”

“Apparently,” he said, then stood up and winced at his leg. “Fuck. Okay man, I’m gonna get showered and ready for tonight. Has uhh…has Viktor mentioned anything crazy? Like retaliation or…?”

“Viktor having men out looking,” Alexei said quietly. “So far nothing, not know who you are. But we not taking chance yet.”

Kent nodded, and felt a sudden, bizarre flame of hope that maybe the guy hadn’t gotten a good look at him, hadn’t recognised him. After all, the club had been closed that night, so there was every chance he wouldn’t associate Kent with it. Maybe he assumed Kent was nothing more than a random Samaritan doing his civic duty, saving kids and shit.

Either way, there was some hope that the madness would end.

He headed for his shower, grateful to have his leg off for a bit, and he took extra time soaping up and rinsing off. After getting his leg back on, and his hair somewhat tamed—though his cowlick would never behave, he spent nearly half an hour choosing his outfit.

Luckily he had enough designer crap to last him a lifetime—most of which had been freebies for his photo shoots and ad campaigns. He felt better in his jeans, glad he could be casual about the soft opening night. He grabbed an Aces snapback, then eventually made his way back into the living room.

For a second, he didn’t see Alexei anywhere and felt a momentary panic. Then he noticed the bigger man stood at the shelf near the TV, staring at the handful of photos Kent had bothered putting up. He turned his head when Kent walked in the room, and offered him a strange, almost sombre expression.

“You win Stanley Cup.”

Kent blinked, then laughed. “Yeah man, three times. Probably more if that fucker had been paying attention instead of texting and driving.”

Alexei blinked at him. “Is how…” He made a vague gesture toward Kent’s leg, and Kent felt oddly compelled to just tell him the whole story.

“Yeah I uh…I was out. We were just fucking around and I was standing off the kerb. Some fuck was coming right out of valet and was texting and the next thing I knew, I was pinned between his car and the concrete block. My leg was fucking trashed, hip broken, all kinds of shit.” He swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. “They did what they could, you know? But there was no saving it.”

It took Alexei three of his long strides to cross the room, and he dropped a hand on Kent’s shoulder. “You are deserve better, Kent. I’m sorry.”

Kent felt the warmth of Alexei’s hand shooting down his arm, and he very carefully, very easily, stepped away from it. Self preservation and all. “It’s alright. I mean, it’s fucked is what it is. But I lived. And now I have all this. Club, money, and bodyguard.”

Alexei chuckled and shrugged. “I’m best bodyguard, so you are being lucky.”

Kent rolled his eyes, then slapped Alexei on his arm. “Come on. I need to get down to the club to make sure nothing’s fallen apart during all this fucking eggs benny eating and grocery shopping and fucking napping.”

Alexei nodded, and Kent pretended like he didn’t see him adjust his gun as he put his coat on. It was better that way. This was just a typical day, with a friend—hot friend sure, whatever—and with any luck, this would all blow over and Kent would get back to his normal life.

Not that he expected it. But damn it, he was allowed to have a little hope.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did this fic just get a fake dating tag? It sure did! My favourite trope. The next chapter deals with that mess.
> 
> For now, have more pining Patater.

The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, the club was at capacity, and so far there had been no attempts on his life, and Kent was sat at a VIP booth with Swoops, watching the crowds.

“I can’t believe this isn’t even your grand opening. I think there’s like four fuckin’ Hiltons here.”

Kent raised a brow at his friend. “Dude, what is this, ’08. Who the fuck cares if a Hilton is here?”

Jeff shoved his middle finger at Kent, and Kent laughed. Leaning back, he slung his arm over the booth and his gaze raked the crowd again. It stopped, as it had been doing almost all night, on the massive Russian against the far wall. Alexei had been stationed in one spot, unmoving, his sharp eyes roving the crowd.

Kent should have been unnerved, and yet he felt safer there. He’d been tempted more than once to at least offer a drink to the guy, but he didn’t think Alexei would take it, and really the last thing Kent needed was to distract the guy who was there to save his ass if anything went wrong.

“Bro,” Jeff said. “Why don’t you just go ask him out?”

Kent blinked. “Uh. What?”

“That fucking giant dude over there who has been staring at you about as hard as you’re staring at him. I swear to god, your eye-fucking ability has only gotten better since your accident.”

Kent felt his cheeks heat up, and he gulped a mouthful of scotch. “Yeah uh. No. I’m not eye-fucking him.”

“My ass,” Jeff said.

Kent looked round, but it was impossibly crowded and hard to tell if anyone there was trying to listen in. He shifted closer to his friend. “Uh okay so dude, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”

Jeff stared at him. “Your new boyfriend?”

“No, fuck,” Kent snapped at him. “Just uh. We can’t be overheard so…” He flicked his head to the side, and when Jeff came in close, Kent gave him the run-down of that night. When he was finished, he offered a sheepish smile, and took down the rest of his drink in one go. “So yeah. That’s why he’s like…staring at me or whatever.”

Jeff blinked. Then blinked again. “Bro. What the actual fuck.”

Kent let out a humorous laugh. “I’ve been saying that non-fucking-stop since. So yeah.”

“Fuck. Fuck me. Fucking…dude are you gonna get shot or some shit? Because I barely kept it together when you got hit by a car and…”

“Dude shut the fuck up,” Kent snapped. “This isn’t a joke. This is serious shit and I have no idea if that dude knows who I am or where I came from and it’s literally that one dude over there keeping me safe. So just…shut up.”

“Sorry. Fuck bro, sorry I just…” Jeff scrubbed a hand down his face. “What about the kid, eh?”

Kent shrugged. “No idea. I mean, I haven’t seen him, you know, since that night. Alexei said he’s okay.”

Jeff’s eyes wandered over to the bodyguard, and he snickered. “I still think he’s eye-fucking you.”

Kent felt something warm pooling in his gut, and he turned his face away. “Whatever, dude. Your obsession with my sex life is getting disturbing.”

“Oh fuck you,” he said, and kicked Kent.

Kent stared at him, deadpan. “That was my fake leg, bro.”

Jeff stared until Kent threw his head back and laughed. “God, you are such an asshole. Get laid or something.” Then after Kent quieted he leant in. “Please don’t fucking die, okay? You’re my best fucking friend and I just…stop playing the goddamn hero.”

Kent pursed his lips. “What would you have done, man? Seeing some teenager with a knife to his throat. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have tried to do something.”

Jeff sighed. “Yeah I…yeah.” There was a pause, then he said, “Have you told Zimmermann yet?”

Kent turned his face away. “No. And that sounds like colossally shitty idea, to be honest. He’s such a fucking martyr. He’ll end up saying shit to Bob and I just…I’m not putting anyone else in the shit because I made a bad investment or whatever.”

Jeff hung his head. “If I hadn’t been up your ass about taking this place…”

“Bro, don’t start,” Kent snapped. “It was my choice, and it’s not like the fuckin’ place had, Run by the mafia’ sign on the door or something. How the fuck were any of us supposed to know. I’m handling it, okay? And I have a giant dude with a fucking gun sleeping in my guest room and standing outside the door when I go take a piss. Trust me, it’ll be a miracle if anyone can get through that.”

“Yeah I guess,” Jeff said, but he still looked dubious.

Kent, on the other hand, was determined to enjoy the party. So he rose, grabbed his cane, and gave Jeff a pat on the shoulder before wandering off to rub elbows with Las Vegas’ elite.

*** 

Kent all-but stumbled into the apartment, leaning heavily on Alexei as three am rolled by. He wasn’t as drunk as he might have been in younger days, but he was tipsy enough to throw his new balance out of whack, and it was by the grace of god, his cane, and Alexei’s firm grip that he made it inside in one piece.

“You are disaster,” Alexei said, giving him an unamused stare. He shuffled a protesting Kent into the armchair.

“Dude I need to piss and like get a drink and take my clothes off,” Kent started to babble.

“I’m check house, then you get in bed,” Alexei ordered. When Kent tried to stand up, the Russian’s withering stare had him sinking back into the chair.

“Fine,” Kent said with a pout. He pulled out his phone as Alexei pulled out his gun, and Kent tried not to stare as the bodyguard began to do his rounds.

Kent sighed as he pulled up his messaging app, and immediately saw a text from Jack. **Success?**

Kent laughed quietly. _Fukin’ great night. U shoulda been there Zimmy._

**It must be three am there. Why are you awake?**

_Just got in, lex is checkin’ the place for murderers n shit. His butt is cute. Wheres bitty I want pie like so bad._

**Drunk texting doesn’t become you. Who is Lex and why are there murderers in your apartment?**

_because im a fukin badass and stopped a mafia hit. Go vegas. Srsly I want pieeeee._

**I sincerely hope you’re joking, Kenny.**

_id never joke abt pie._

**I’m not talking about the pie. Drink a glass of water and call me when you’re sober.**

_imma go to bed send pie._

Kent let the phone drop from his fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud just as Alexei came back into the room. “Is clear.”

Kent sighed. “Too bad. This is getting annoying. Maybe it would be better if they just put me out of my fuckin’ misery.”

Alexei sighed, then put both arms under Kent’s, and hauled him to his feet. Kent couldn’t make his legs work properly, so he let Alexei propel him to the bedroom, and he flopped backward onto his bed.

“Uhg getting my leg off sucks. Do you know how much it sucks to have a limb you gotta take off and put on?” Kent asked. He pushed himself up on his elbows to stare at Alexei. “Like walking sucks, standing sucks. It all sucks.”

Alexei stared, then carefully knelt beside Kent and began to work at the button and zip on his jeans.

Kent flushed, and closed his fingers round Alexei’s wrist. “Man if you wanna get in my pants at least kiss me first.”

“I’m not seduce you when you drunk,” Alexei deadpanned. “You can’t sleep in this. Wake up hurt.” He shimmied Kent’s jeans down, then looked at Kent’s prosthetic with a slight frown, like he didn’t know what to do first.

“It just like…rolls. Off.” Kent flicked the suspension sleeve.

Alexei hesitated, but with careful hands began to roll it down. Kent let out a sigh of relief when he felt the pressure alleviate, and the leg ease off. He reached down, tugging at the sock, letting it fall off the side of the bed, and he stretched his arms up over his head, arching his back.

When he settled back down, he saw Alexei still staring at him, and he flushed. His tongue was loose, his inhibitions almost non-existent from the alcohol. “I know it’s totally like…weird to look at. People think it’s pretty you know…kinda… weird. Whatever.”

“No. No I’m not mean,” Alexei said, his words fumbling on his tongue. “Is…hurt, still? Right now? Anything helps it?”

“Oh.” Kent reached down, rubbing his hand over his stump, and he shrugged. “Nah it’s fine right now. Just like sore, I guess. Long night. It’s okay.”

“I’m have scar. On hip,” Alexei said, and brushed his hand over his left hip. “Many surgery to fix. Still hurt sometimes.”

Kent pushed up on his elbows again. “What happened?”

“Is…conflict. In Russia. I’m found with boyfriend,” Alexei said, looking away from Kent. “Is not safe there for people like me. Pasha, he find out, send for me and I’m here then.”

“Fuck,” Kent breathed. Even in his drunken state, it made sense then, Alexei’s reaction with Dmitri.

“I’m not want to leave Mitya,” Alexei carried on. “He so young, just little boy, but…danger.” Alexei shrugged. “I’m think I get him here, but then his mama disappear and we can’t find him. I can’t go back,” Alexei said, his brow furrowed. “Take so long to find him.”

“Fuck,” Kent breathed again. He wriggled into a sitting position and he pat the bed next to him. Alexei hesitated, but eventually sat down, and Kent put a hand on his leg. “Look man, that sucks and I’m sorry. And I’m really fuckin’ sorry you got roped into watching my ass.”

“Is okay,” Alexei said, smiling softly. “You help save Mitya, I happy to watch ass.” He froze then, flushing. “I’m not mean…I know you are not…”

“Oh I am,” Kent said, and his head swam from the alcohol and close proximity to Alexei so hard, he had to flop backward. “I’m so fucking gay. And so fucking drunk. Oh my god okay I need like…sleep.”

Alexei stared, then chuckled and pulled the blankets back as Kent shuffled back against the pillows. He groaned when Alexei tucked him in, and shivered when Alexei’s massive hand squeezed his shoulder. “You sleep, kotyonok. I keep safe.”

Kent mumbled incoherently into the pillow, grateful he couldn’t be heard, because he was having a damn hard time controlling his feelings now. He had to keep his shit together. He didn’t think fucking his bodyguard was on the table, and really, Kent was thinking he didn’t just want that.

Alexei was terrifying, but sweet, and damn if Kent wasn’t craving a little something more. The alcohol was a lot though, and as he tried to keep his thoughts straight, he drifted off into sleep.

*** 

Kent woke the next morning with a pounding headache. Rolling to the side, he saw a fresh bottle of water on the table, along with a bottle of pain reliever for his head. He knew only one person could have taken care of that, and he gave himself a silent reminder to tell the bodyguard thanks. And probably sorry, because though he was drunk, he had vivid clips of his blabbering the night before and Jesus, he was a menace.

Tipping a couple pills into his palm, Kent chugged back half the bottle in one go, the swung his leg off the bed. He fumbled for his crutches, making his way to the toilet and grimacing at the booze smell as he emptied his bladder. He switched the shower on, craving a meal, but more than that, craving the ability to scrub the club smell from his skin.

He didn’t take long, and shrugged into joggers, tying up the leg instead of putting his prosthetic on. At this point Alexei had seen him half-naked and wasted, so there was no reason to bother trying to hide himself. If Alexei wasn’t disgusted with him after all that…well, he figured he was in the clear.

Kent ran the brush through his hair, glowering at his cowlick before throwing it on the counter, then made his way into the living room. Alexei wasn’t there, but Kent smelt something cooking, sort of a doughy, pancake scent, and he headed in. Alexei was at the stove, wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt. His massive, hairy legs were bare, along with his feet, and he had the frying pan in one hand, giving it a shake.

When he flipped whatever was in there, Kent let out a tiny gasp, and Alexei looked back over his shoulder. He gave Kent a careful smile. “You are in pain?”

Kent snorted, shaking his head. He set one crutch down, using the other to get to the counter, and he pulled down a mug for the fresh pot of coffee. “I mean, I don’t feel great, but the water and shit helped. Thanks. And uh. Sorry for being kind of a dick last night.”

Alexei looked at him carefully. “Drunk, not dick. You not even get naked, which is better than most friends.”

Kent couldn’t help the nervous laugh, and definitely did not tell Alexei that naked wouldn’t have been off the table if he’d shown even a hint of interest. Instead he busied himself with the coffee, taking it black, and he made his way carefully back to the breakfast bar.

“So uh. What are you making?”

“Blini. Good food for after drink too much.” He pointed to a bowl of something white, and what looked like strawberry preserves. Kent had no idea where the fuck Alexei would have found all that—he damn well knew it hadn’t come from his fridge, but he wasn’t going to ask. He’d already gotten a little too personal.

“So I’m getting treated to authentic Russian food then?” he asked instead.

Alexei chuckled. “Is not good as mama’s,” he replied with a shrug, “but is okay. You like.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Kent chirped.

Not ten minutes later, Kent was digging in with relish, and trying—but failing—not to speak with his mouth full. “Fucking hell this is so good. Jesus. Can I keep you?”

Alexei chuckled quietly, chewing his own bite before speaking. “You have me as long as you need, kotyonok.”

Kent startled at the name. “You called me that last night.”

“You not know even little Russian?” Alexei chirped.

Kent shrugged. “Like, some. You know, hockey shit. And like… mudak.”

Alexei snorted into his breakfast. “I teach you better words.” He made no attempt to translate the other word though, and Kent made a mental note to pay close attention when he got started on his Rosetta Stone. For now, they enjoyed an easy breakfast, and Kent was more than grateful Alexei wasn’t giving him shit for the night before.

When they were done eating, Kent rose. “I should uh…go put my leg on and stuff.”

Alexei reached out when he started to move away. “Is okay if you want…leave off? It not bothering me.”

“Oh. Well uh…” Kent said.

“You leave off at home?”

“Sometimes,” Kent said with a shrug. “Crutches are a pain in the ass though, but if I’m not busy, yeah. I leave it off.”

“So you leave off. No work in morning. Go sit. Is okay.”

Kent wanted to remind Alexei he wasn’t like a housekeeper, especially when Alexei started to gather the dishes, but he also didn’t want to argue with the giant man. So he did what was best for everyone, grabbed his phone, then plopped himself down on the couch. He switched on SportsCenter on his TV without really thinking, then cocked his leg up on the cushion and began to scroll through his messages.

When he got to Zimms, he paled. “Fuck,” he whispered, reading through them. 

Alexei, who was just settling into the chair, looked over. “Is trouble?”

Kent looked up, a little pale. “Uh. I might have done something kind of stupid when I was drunk last night.” Alexei raised a brow, and when he said nothing, Kent continued, “I might have kind of mentioned some shit. Last night. To uh…a friend of mine.”

Alexei let out a small breath, then rose and dropped next to Kent. “I am see? How bad problem is?”

Kent hesitated. It wasn’t too bad, but he had mentioned how cute Alexei’s butt was and Jesus if that wasn’t even fucking worse than some of the shit he’d said in the bedroom. But he did need to know how badly he’d fucked up. If Jack had said anything to anyone…

Alexei reached for the phone, and Kent didn’t fight him. He watched Alexei’s face carefully as the other man read everything through. There was a moment, Kent was sure, when Alexei read the line, but he didn’t comment. A minute later, he looked up at Kent.

“I’m not think it’s too bad. This friend…is Jack Zimmermann?”

Kent’s eyebrows rose. “Shit. Are you a fan? I swear I was a way better player than Zimms.” He didn’t know why the fuck he was saying that. Jealousy was hot in his gut.

Alexei, however, laughed. “I’m know you have more trophies. For now.” He winked, then handed the phone over. “You trust Zimmermann?”

Kent had to think about that. “I uh. I mean yeah, of course I trust him. We’ve been best friends since we were kids but like…I worry he might say something to someone because he thinks it’s for my own good.”

“So what you are tell him then?”

Kent licked his lips. “I think I’ll have to lie. Tell him I was just drunk and babbling. Maybe I’ll tell him I was fucking a Russian guy and we were roleplaying.” He stopped when he realised what he was saying, and looked away, mortified. “Uh. I mean…”

Alexei was wearing a quiet smirk. “Is good excuse.”

Kent scrubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah. Uh. Okay well now that I’m officially fucking mortified and want to die and be buried with my shame…”

Alexei shook his head and gave Kent a pat on the shoulder. “Is not so bad. Not so bad as mama who walk in when I have boyfriend’s cock in my mouth.”

Kent’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit…what?”

Alexei laughed, the sound sweet and booming loud. “Is so embarrassing. She just stare, then say…” He rattled off something in Russian and when Kent lifted a brow Alexei shrugged. “Give tips on technique.”

“Ooooh my fucking _god_ ,” Kent groaned. “I would have died.”

“Da,” Alexei said solemnly. “Is not best memory.”

“No fucking shit.” Kent laid his head back against the cushions, and when he and Alexei met gazes, they both broke into giggles. Kent uncurled his leg and checked Alexei gently on the thigh. “Well I can’t beat that. Jack and I were fucking back in the Q and we were like goddamn government spies, how well we could hide our shit. By the time either of us came out publicly we were old and mature or whatever. He had a boyfriend and I was done being some fuckboy.”

Alexei had a small frown, like he wasn’t sure what half the words were, but he smiled anyway. “You are happy now, yes?”

Kent bit his lip, because he had no idea how to answer that. He was out of hockey, he’d lost a leg, and he was lonely as fuck. But he was rich, he had a new venture, and he didn’t exactly hate having some gorgeous, massive Russian dude watching his every move. So…

“I’m alright,” Kent said. “I mean, it could be worse.”

Alexei nodded sagely. “Yes. Good saying. Could be worse.” He gave Kent a pat on the shoulder, then pushed himself up and disappeared out of the room.

It was by far the weirdest interaction Kent had so far. And it was also the damn best.

*** 

It was nearing noon when Alexei walked into the living room and leant on the back of the chair. “Okay we go to my place now.”

Kent stared up from his phone where he had spent the last hour and a half debating about texting Jack. “Uh. What?”

“My home. I’m need things, stay here a while. Viktor says a while, I stay a while.” Alexei shrugged. “So get dressed. I’m not leave you here.”

Kent thought about arguing, about seeing what would happen if he just refused to move, but Alexei had a very no-nonsense look about him and he didn’t want to test those boundaries. Yet. With a sigh, he pushed to stand, grabbed his crutches, and went into the bedroom to change.

It only took him a minute, though getting jeans on over his prosthetic was always a chore, but he wore his favourite plaid shirt to make up for the annoyance, and grabbed his Aces snapback before heading out. His leg, having rested most of the day, was feeling alright, so he skipped his cane, shoved his phone into his pocket, and said, “Let me guess, you’re driving?”

“I’m know where to go,” Alexei said by way of reply, then grabbed the keys and headed out.

Turned out, Alexei lived really fucking far. “Is in Henderson,” he explained as they hit the freeway. His place turned out to be mother-in-law quarters on Viktor’s property. He pulled through a gate, then around the back to where a small cottage sat. From his place, Kent could make out a massive yard with a pool, and what looked like a tennis court off to the side.

“Jesus. I guess being in the…you know…pays well.”

Alexei gave him a look, but said nothing as Kent climbed out of the car and followed the other man inside. The place was tidy, generic furniture, and not much in the way of décor. But there were framed photos on the bookshelves, and Kent stopped in front of them as Alexei went to his bedroom to pack.

A lot of them had Alexei when he was younger, his hair more shaggy, smile wider. There were a handful of what looked like young Dmitri, and a man who looked strikingly like a younger version of Viktor.

The last set had Alexei in what looked like Russia’s team colours, clad in all the padding, on skates, holding a hockey stick. Kent sucked in his breath. “You didn’t tell me you played hockey,” he called.

Alexei poked his head round the door. “You not asking.”

Kent rolled his eyes. “I didn’t realise I needed to. But whatever. Uh, do you miss it?”

“Hip too injured to keep play,” Alexei said as he dragged his case out. “Is fine.”

Kent didn’t think it was fine. It wasn’t fucking fine when he was taken out by a car, and from what he remembered Alexei telling him, getting attacked on the street for being gay was also not fucking fine. But it wasn’t his place to say that now. So he shrugged and said, “Is this Pasha?”

Alexei stepped in close to Kent, so close Kent could feel his body heat, and almost lost his breath. “Da,” Alexei said very softly. “Was good guy.”

“I’m…sorry,” Kent said lamely. “That really fucking sucks.”

Alexei let out a breath. “He good man, but very stupid. He not say anything, not let anyone help…” Alexei’s voice went tight, and he took a breath. “Promise you not be same, Kent.”

Kent looked over his shoulder at Alexei who was stood so close, he could feel Alexei’s breath on his cheek. “I promise,” he said softly, and was surprised at just how damn much he meant it.

When Alexei stepped back, Kent felt the loss almost physically. “Come. We say hi to Mitya and Viktor. They ask to see you, want to see how you are doing.”

Kent wanted to protest, but Alexei took him by the wrist and yanked him out of the cottage. Luckily the walk to the main house was short, and though Kent struggled a little on the slight incline from the cottage to the back door, he made it alright.

It led straight into the kitchen, and Kent stopped dead when he saw Dmitri at the counter cleaning a gun. His breath caught in his throat and he took a step back. Dmitri, however, didn’t seem to notice the hesitation as he hopped off the stool and threw his arms round Alexei.

They hugged a moment, then Dmitri turned to Kent and, surprising the ex player, immediately dragged him into an embrace.

“Good to see you,” Dmitri said.

Kent blinked at him. “Yeah you too, kid. You uh, working on English?”

Dmitri flushed. “I learn. Practise. Have…uh…web video?”

Kent laughed. “Nice. Well you sound awesome.”

Dmitri rubbed the back of his neck, then looked between Alexei and Kent. “I was think I maybe…come visit? Something. We can…skate?”

Kent was jolted by the request, and looked at Alexei who was staring at his feet thoughtfully. His mouth opened, but all that came out was a long string of Russian Kent couldn’t hope to understand. By the look on Dmitri’s face, the answer was a no, but not a solid no. Like it was a maybe or…some other time. Kent wanted to invite the kid to the club, but that was a colossally bad idea, he knew.

So instead he said, “Look, I have full access to the rink where the Aces practise. I mean, I’m not on the team anymore but I have like lifetime favouritism. Let me check and see when they aren’t using it, okay? Uh…if you can,” Kent amended at Alexei’s look.

But the taller man didn’t seem upset. He gave Kent a thoughtful look, then said, “You practise better English, we go skate.”

Dmitri scowled, answering in Russian, and Alexei laughed, ruffling his hair. He gestured back to the gun, and Dmitri went back to his work as Alexei reached for the door. When Kent frowned, Alexei said, “Viktor not home, is on job. We visit later.”

Not wanting at all to know what the fuck Viktor was actually up to, he gladly said a quick goodbye to Dmitri, then followed the bodyguard back to the cottage. Picking up his case, Alexei threw it into the car, then waited for Kent to get in.

“Look, I’m sorry of skating is a bad idea. Hell, I haven’t been on the ice with my new leg and with your hip. I uh. I should have asked.”

Alexei shook his head. “Is okay. I coach a little bit after, when I first come here. Before Viktor need me. I can skate. I can help you.”

Kent blinked. “Oh. Um. Yeah, okay.”

Alexei grinned at him, then put the car into drive, and headed off.

*** 

Ensconced in the privacy of his large office, Kent felt the vibrations of the music under his feet more than he could hear it. He was staring at the text on his phone. **Call me, Kenny.**

His finger hovered over Zimms’ name, waiting to decide what he was going to do. He had to tell him something so he didn’t freak out, but he was never any good at lying to Jack. With a sigh, he pushed the button, then waited.

“Crisse, you couldn’t have chosen a more reasonable hour?”

Kent glanced at the clock and laughed. “Shit, what time is it there? Like three?”

Jack groaned, and Kent heard sheets ruffling, and a Georgia drawl curving round sleepy curses. There was the sound of a door, then Jack’s voice again. “It’s fine. I was expecting you to call me earlier.”

“Sorry, man. This club business is taking up way more of my time than I expected. But I wanted to say sorry about those dumbass texts. I was just really drunk.”

“I figured that one out. I just wanted to see if there was any truth to them.”

Kent flushed. “Nothing I can’t handle. Seriously.”

Jack was quiet for a minute. “Is Lex a boyfriend?”

Kent looked down at the tips of his shoes. “Well not…exactly.”

“But?” Jack pressed.

“But I’d like him to be,” Kent blurted. “It’s just…it’s complicated. But seriously, I’m working it out.”

“Well I hope I can meet him when Bits and I come out.”

Kent blinked. “For the uh…grand opening?”

“You think I’d miss it?” Jack chirped. “I’ve already got my tickets booked. I was kind of hoping Bits and I could stay with you. I know he missed Kit and…”

“No,” Kent blurted. Then stopped. “Um. I mean…no yeah, that’s fine. Sorry fuck. I was…I gotta go. There’s some crisis with drinks. Text you later, okay? Hi to Bitty for me.” Kent hung up and went for the door. He was unsurprised to find Alexei stood in the hallway, just a few feet away, staring. With a sigh, Kent leant on the doorframe and crossed his arms. “I fucked up. Again.”

Alexei gave him an unimpressed look, then pushed his way into the office and shut the door. Kent’s hands were already knocking off his snapback, mussing up his hair. “What is problem?”

“So Jack Zimmermann, you know? Who is one of my best friends and one of the biggest pains in the ass?”

Alexei nodded. “He seem like good guy, good player.”

Kent rolled his eyes. “Yeah well, he and his boyfriend are coming to the grand opening and they expect to stay with me because well…they always do and it’s gonna look fuckin’ weird if I tell them to stay in a hotel.”

“So what is problem?”

“Uh well…you,” Kent said. “I told him you were some guy I was into, and he’s fine with it obviously but like…what the fuck am I supposed to tell him about you being there? No worries, Zimms, just some guy I picked up on the street who likes to scour my apartment holding a gun?”

Alexei’s brow furrowed. “Is problem.”

“No fucking shit,” Kent all-but snapped.

Alexei, once again, looked vaguely annoyed at Kent’s attitude, but then he shrugged. “You tell him you like me?”

Kent blushed. “Well yeah I uh…”

“Because I have cute butt,” Alexei chirped.

“Oh fuck you,” Kent chirped back.

Alexei laughed, then dropped a massive hand on Kent’s shoulder. “I’m be boyfriend for a few days, no big deal. Will be more discrete when I look at apartment, he not see gun. No problem.”

Kent stared at him. “You’re shitting me. Alexei you can’t like…act like this. You can’t stand outside the office and guard my door and be a fucking creepy, gun-wielding wallflower. He’s gonna figure it out.”

Alexei sighed. “Kent, is okay.” He slid his arm round Kent’s waist and hitched him close, making Kent lose his breath. “I’m be boyfriend for a few days. Then Zimmermann go home, and is okay. Trust me.”

Kent stared at him wide-eyed and almost terrified because pretending to be Alexei’s boyfriend was going to send him straight to fucking hell in a handbasket. Alexei would figure him out in two seconds. But, he realised as he stood there, Alexei’s stupidly large hand still on his hip, he didn’t exactly have a choice. Alexei couldn’t leave, Kent couldn’t tell the truth, and Kent had already fucked the situation with his drunk texting.

So.

Fake boyfriend it was.

“Jesus this is going to be a disaster,” Kent muttered.

Alexei laughed and squeezed Kent once before letting him go to ruffle his already fucked hair. “Is not. Trust me, I’m best boyfriend. You’ll see.” And with that large, sappy grin still on his face, Alexei left the room to guard the hall once more.

When the door shut, Kent sank into the chair and stared at his hands. He was so, incredibly fucked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fake dating gets me so excited to write it, you get another update! More pining and bed-sharing. Next chapter has more action.
> 
> The way this is going, I think I'm going to sort it out in a few more chapters. I'm guessing two, total. And maybe a third for epilogue. But at this point I'm just going wherever it takes me. Anyway hope you like this update :D

It had taken literally all of Kent’s persuasive powers to get the Aces to agree to not show up at the rink when he was using it for him and his “boyfriend.” Only Jeff knew the truth, he was the only one Kent trusted, which meant he had to continue the lie about Alexei.

It was easy enough. It’s not like anyone expected Kent to suck face with the guy in public, but it was also awkward as hell because for all that Alexei thought the whole thing was hilarious, Kent’s crush was mortifying. He could only imagine what a fool he was going to make of himself when Jack and Bits came around.

Fuck.

For now, he decided to forget about it. Mostly because he was about to touch the ice for the first time since his accident and he was fucking terrified. Kent hadn’t spent more than a week away from a rink since he was about three, and he hadn’t realised how profound this moment was going to be until he stepped foot inside the building and was assaulted with that crisp, overwhelming smell of ice.

He’d phoned his doctor earlier that week to make sure he was good to go with the whole trying to skate thing. His doctor’s only advice was, “If it hurts too much, stop.”

Kent already knew not to expect it to be the same. His balance was different, and his movements were different. He no longer really had much control over the prosthetic ankle and knee, which meant he’d be relying heavier on his other leg. It also meant he was probably going to fall a lot. And falling when he was fucking round with the guys was one thing, but falling because he no longer knew how to do the one thing he loved most was quite another.

But he was determined. Dmitri was with them, and looking thrilled as he could be. Kent assumed the kid was probably cooped up all damn day, and now that he knew just how close Alexei had been with the kid, it was impossible for Kent to want to put anything between that.

He slung his bag over his shoulder as they made their way toward the benches. If Kent closed his eyes, he could hear himself barking out orders at the guys. He could hear their chirps, and his return ones. He could feel the ice under his skates, both skates. He could feel the stick in his hand. It seemed like another fucking life thinking about taking to the rink and shooting the puck and winning the fucking cup.

And knowing he wouldn’t have that again…

Kent’s eyes snapped open when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he saw Alexei looming over him, his brown eyes drawn with concern. “You are in pain?”

_My heart feels like it’s being ripped out_ , was what Kent wanted to say. Instead he said, “Nah, I’m good.”

Alexei, however, didn’t believe him. “You tell. Is okay, no one here to listen. Mitya not understand much.”

Kent rolled his eyes and batted Alexei’s hand away. “I’m just…you know. Fuck. Nervous, I guess. This is my first time on skates since the uh…since the accident and it’s making me feel…something. I dunno.”

Alexei sighed, then reached out and pulled Kent to his feet. Walking on blades and a prosthetic was even more difficult than Kent thought, and he stumbled more than once as he reached the entrance to the rink. Dmitri was already out, skating rapid-fire laps with skill Kent didn’t realise the kid had. His eyes were wide as he watched.

“Shit. Does he play?”

Alexei looked over. “He want to play, long time ago. But things got…” Alexei used a word in Russian Kent didn’t recognise. It definitely wasn’t in lesson one of conversational Russian. “Maybe sometime, after he settle.”

Kent nodded, and his head was already going places with it because he knew people and shit…if he ignored talent what kind of player was he all along? But right now he couldn’t focus on that, because his feet hit the rink and immediately his prosthetic tried to slide away. Kent started to go down, but strong arms caught him and righted him.

His face was burning and his anger was rising because he’d been skating his entire fucking life and he should not be like this.

“Just find new balance,” Alexei said very softly, very close to his ear. “Take a minute. Hold hand, I keep you safe.”

Kent wanted to shove him away and just do it, but he also didn’t want to look like a complete asshole so he squeezed Alexei’s fingers just shy of too tight, and started to shuffle his feet. It took far too long, but eventually Kent got his balance well enough to skate away from Alexei’s arms, though he didn’t venture too far.

He tried not to feel like a failure, like something had been stolen from him. He tried not to watch the young kid speed through manoeuvres with the same ease Kent had once skated through them.

His breathing was shaky, but eventually he was doing laps round the rink, and he wasn’t falling. He wasn’t failing. He wasn’t Aces Captain Parse anymore, but he still had this.

Kent skated toward the wall as Alexei and Dmitri began to chance each other round the rink. His bitterness had faded into a dull ache in the background, and he found himself smiling and chuckling at them. He leant against the wall and pulled out his phone, turning to take a selfie with the rink in the background.

He captioned the photo, ‘Look ma, no hands!’ and sent the snap to Zimms and Bitty.

He got two texts back.

**How is it?**

And…

_Oh honey I am so proud of you._

Kent decided it was best not to answer yet. It was still too raw, so he tucked his phone away, and watched as Alexei and Dmitri began to hit a couple of pucks between them. Kent hadn’t let the guys leave the nets out, but the sticks and pucks were fine. Kent was half sure the one Alexei had was one of his old ones, and for some reason, seeing it in Alexei’s hands didn’t hurt the way he thought it would.

They stayed an hour. Alexei eventually let Dmitri skate round on his own, and he slid up to Kent’s elbow as they did lazy laps round the perimeter.

“Not so bad?” Alexei asked.

Kent let out a breath. “Yeah, no. Not really. It…it sucks, you know. Like half of me feels like screaming and crying about it, but the other half of me is just glad I can still do this shit.”

Alexei’s face fell a little as he grabbed Kent’s shoulder and squeezed. “Maybe we practise more sometime?”

Kent shrugged. He wasn’t sure how he’d feel later. He wasn’t sure that getting on the ice wasn’t just going to make the ache of everything he lost feel that much worse. But maybe it wouldn’t. Alexei at least understood. He’d had his own shit go wrong, his own life stripped away from him by hate and bigotry. And shit, maybe that was worse. Kent wouldn’t really know, and he wasn’t really going to play that game.

But the solidarity was nice, and it kept him in a decent mood even as they took off their skates and stopped for burgers before taking Dmitri back to Viktor’s.

“Viktor say maybe I see you again,” Dmitri said, leaning between the seats in Kent’s car. “Da?”

Alexei rattled something off in Russian, and whatever it was made Dmitri looked pleased enough. Kent smiled and said, “Do svidaniya,” which was about as far as he’d gotten. But Dmitri and Alexei’s eyes widened, and Kent shrugged. “I can study too, you know.”

Kent didn’t pretend not to see the curious look on Alexei’s face, but neither of them said anything as they walked Dmitri to the door. Viktor was there, but on the phone and looking hurried as he brought Dmitri inside.

“Thank you,” was all he said to Kent, then Alexei was pulling him back out.

“He so busy,” Alexei explained. “Not want to bother.”

Kent nodded as he got in the car and watched Alexei start it up. “So like…am I ever going to get to drive my car again or what?”

Alexei looked over, then smiled, “I’m like driving here. Can go fast, not too much trouble. Little car, is nice.”

Kent rolled his eyes. “Whatever, man. If you really wanna be my chauffeur…”

“I’m be whatever you want, Kent,” Alexei said with a wink, and if Kent had anything in his mouth right then, he might have actually choked to death.

*** 

That night at the club was far more calm than the night before. There was still a queue at the door, the club packed to capacity, but Kent wasn’t required to be as present, and his manager assured him he was good to bail early. Alexei looked grateful for it, and after a perfunctory look round the apartment, he let Kent go off and shower.

Instead of climbing into his bed, Kent used his crutches and sprawled out on the couch. His leg was aching, and all he really wanted was to prop his stump up on a pillow and lose himself on some crap TV. There was no sign of Alexei, which probably meant he’d put himself to bed in the guest room, so Kent turned the TV on quiet, and pulled up his phone.

The texts were still there, a few more from Jack confirming his flight’s arrival, then asking Kent if he was okay.

_I’m good. Sorry, it’s just been busy. I uh should tell you, I have my uh…_ Kent’s fingers paused on the keyboard because typing boyfriend sounded so fucking high school and it was all fake and fuck, he hated lying to Jack. But he didn’t have a choice, and he knew it was that or let the truth fuck everything up. _…boyfriend staying here. He’s pretty chill. You’ll like him._

There was a long pause, and Kent was frankly surprised to get an answer, considering how late it was there. 

**I’m looking forward to meeting the guy who actually got Kent Parson to settle down.**

_Oh fuck you, Zimms. We’re not planning a wedding. But I just wanted to let you know so you won’t be surprised by a gorgeous, naked Russian wandering around my place._

**Nudist?**

_With an ass like that, it would be a crime not to be. Anyway see you in a few days?_

**Looking forward to it. Get some sleep, Kenny.**

_Yes, mom._

Kent tossed his phone onto the table, leaning back against the cushions, and lost himself on HGTV. He was halfway through some shitty show about renovating dilapidated cottages or whatever, when he heard a noise, and startled. His entire body was instantly on edge, and the relief when he saw Alexei shuffling into the room was so intense, for a second he actually felt sick.

“Jesus fuck, you scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” Alexei murmured, his voice hoarse and sleep-thick. “I’m just need water.”

Kent watched him shuffle into the kitchen for a glass, and when he came out, he leant against the wall instead of going back to bed.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

Kent shrugged. “Just sore.” He waved his hand at his stump. “Skating was great, but after that and the fuckin’ club, I think I might have overdone it.”

Alexei took a few steps forward, then eased himself onto the cushion, startling Kent as he took the leg onto his thigh. “Is massage help?”

Kent blinked. “Uh.”

“Or is hurt more?”

“No I uh. It’s fine. It’s just…don’t feel like you have to um…”

His words cut off when Alexei pushed the rest of Kent’s jogger leg up, exposing his skin. He started with a light touch, rubbing gently, taking care round the scar where the nerves were most sensitive. Kent let out an involuntary moan when Alexei’s easy fingers began to knead into the muscle behind the scar, and his head flopped back.

“Is okay?”

Kent nodded. “Mm. Yeah.” He wanted to tell him stop, because fucking hell this was intimate, but Alexei seemed utterly unfazed by it. In fact, he wore a soft smile and if Kent didn’t fully believe that he was totally not worth the attention of a gorgeous guy like Alexei, he might think the guy kind of liked him. “You uh. Having trouble sleeping too?”

“Mm,” Alexei said. “Is happen sometimes. Bad dreams.”

Kent stared at him for a minute. “Can I ask like…what your job is? Are you like some assassin or…like have you ever killed a guy?”

Alexei’s lips thinned a bit, then he sighed. “I’m do things Viktor ask me to do. We not…we not bad people, Kenny. Not hurt people. Just take care of our own. No drugs, try not to hurt.” There was a pause, and Kent could tell Alexei wasn’t finished. “I’m do things sometimes I’m not proud of. Things I have to. If person come after person I care about…I take care of it. Anyone hurt Mitya, I come for them. I come for people who hurt Pasha. Or Viktor.” He paused again, then quietly said, “Or you. I’m not let you get hurt. But I’m not bad guy.”

“I don’t think you’re a bad guy,” Kent said in a very small voice. He shifted up and reached out, letting his hand rest over Alexei’s which had fallen still on Kent’s thigh, but hadn’t moved away. “Shit I don’t even think I’ve said thanks for all this.”

Alexei snorted. “Is okay. I’m come into your home. I’m know you not ask for it.”

Kent shook his head. “I mean yeah I was pretty freaked but I know you’re…you’re looking out for me. And like…you know I’d look out for you too, right? I’m not just gonna let you jump in front of a bullet for me, Alexei. I’ve got your back.”

Alexei looked startled by this, and he stare at Kent for a long time. Then, very slowly, he moved Kent’s leg aside and stood up. He hesitated, then leant down and pressed a kiss to the centre of Kent’s forehead. “You good guy, Kenny. Very good guy. I’m happy to help. To protect. You sleep soon, okay?”

He didn’t wait for Kent’s reply, disappearing again, and the moment Kent heard the soft click of the bedroom door, he threw his head back against the cushion and covered his face with his hands. His leg could still feel the phantom fingers on his skin, a burning up and down his thigh, and he muttered, “Fuck.”

Because he was. He was so fucked.

*** 

Kent was all-but shaking with nerves as they pulled into the airport car park for Jack and Bitty. That morning he’d seen Alexei tucking an impressively sized gun into _somewhere_ under his jacket, and he was convinced it would last all of five minutes before Jack figured the whole damn thing out.

And then what?

Jack and Bitty, who had a good life, a quiet life on the East Coast, would be dragged into some complicated Mafia crisis where their lives were just as in danger as Kent’s?

As they headed toward the main doors, Alexei seemed to notice Kent’s apprehension, and carefully reached for him. Without even really thinking about it, Kent let their fingers tangle together and he squeezed.

“Is okay,” Alexei said, tugging him close. “You not have boyfriend before? You not know how to act?”

Kent rolled his eyes. “First of all, fuck you, I’m a great actor. And secondly my last solid boyfriend was Zimms like years ago so it’s not my acting I’m worried about. It’s the giant gun in your pocket and the whole I might have some dude trying to kill me, thing.”

Alexei pulled Kent off to the side, still holding tightly to his hand. “Is okay, Kenny,” he said very quietly. “They not find gun, I do this a long time, nobody see it. We in airport and no one know I have gun. And I’m know friends important to you. I protect, okay? I protect like I protect you. Is my job.”

Job. Right, Kent reminded himself. They were not boyfriends and this was his job and whatever else Kent was thinking, he needed to stop right fucking now. “Okay. I…okay,” he breathed.

Alexei bowed his head, then hitched his arm round Kent’s waist. “Come, we go wait for Zimms and his little boyfriend. Then we have nice meal, get settled at home, go see club. Is easy.”

Kent sighed, but nodded, and let Alexei lead the way. They were meeting Jack and Bitty right where the passengers would exit from baggage claim, and he found a bench where he could rest his leg and wait. Their plane had landed, but the updates on his app said they were still taxiing in.

“Uh. Alexei,” Kent said, the bodyguard’s name still a little unfamiliar on his tongue. “I uh. Well since we’re you know, dating or whatever…?”

“Mm,” Alexei said.

“I mean I swear I wasn’t being a creep but like in my Rosetta Stone lesson they were talking about names. And how Russian names have nicknames, and like…nicknames for those nicknames. Like Dmitri is uh. Mitya.”

Alexei smiled. “Yes this is right. Mitya also Mityenka.”

Kent licked his lips. “So not that Jack or Bits will know. Maybe. Probably. But uhh, what uh. Should I call you?”

Alexei’s eyes went a little wider and he shrugged. “Alexei is fine you know. But if you like, is also Aloysha.”

Kent nodded, then bit the inside of his cheek before he asked, “But what’s the uh. What’s the other one?”

Alexei swallowed, then shrugged. “Aloyshenka, but is okay if you not want using that one.”

“Alyoshenka,” Kent said, trying the name out. “Aloysha. Do you prefer one or…?”

“Whatever you are wanting, Kenny,” Alexei said with a shrug. There was something tight in his smile, but it didn’t look like displeasure. “Always whatever you wanting.”

That went straight to his gut, and Kent had to take in a shaking breath and remind himself Alexei did _not_ mean it that way. Which was difficult with how close he was sitting, and how he was playing with Kent’s fingers idly like it was the most natural thing in the world.

His other hand drifted to Kent’s leg, tracing round the seam where Kent’s suspension sleeve was, and Kent swore he was going to fucking faint or die or something.

In fact, seeing Jack coming across the room was probably the only thing that saved his ass from a straight up coronary. He jumped up, though Alexei went with him, and their hands only let go when Jack was in hugging range.

Kent threw his arms round the taller man first, squeezing maybe a little too hard. He had no idea how much he’d been craving a familiar face until right then. He was blushing when he pulled back, and he moved in for Bitty who was still cute, and still short, and still hugged so tight he could probably lift Kent off the floor a few inches.

“You act like you haven’t seen us in a year,” Bitty chirped. “Like we weren’t just out here bakin’ you pie three months ago.”

Kent rolled his eyes. “So what? I missed the pie, okay? Sue me.”

“I might, for your bad manners,” Bitty scolded. “Haven’t even introduced your incredibly gorgeous new boyfriend.”

Kent flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shit sorry I…this is all new.” He stepped back and reached for Alexei. “This is Alexei. Alexei, this is Jack and Bitty.”

Jack shook Alexei’s hand, but Bitty went right in for the hug, making Alexei laugh and lift Bitty up several inches. “Kenny tell me all about pie. I tell him you stay, make pie for all time,” Alexei said with a chuckle.

Jack was smiling softly as Kent looked over at Alexei with another blush. He really was good at this. So long as Jack didn’t see what Alexei was really up to, he might be able to pull this off.

“Well maybe y’all will just have to come to Providence and see us,” Bitty said as the four of them headed for the doors.

Alexei laughed and said he always wanted to see the East Coast and try their lobster rolls, and it was only Kent who noticed the sharpness of his eyes as he assessed every stranger walking by.

But there was no incident. No shooting. No threats.

They got into the car and made it to Kent’s in one piece.

Alexei excused himself to the toilet as Jack and Bitty set up in the guest room, and Kent knew what his pseudo-boyfriend was really up to, but he was subtle about it. Kent breathed a sigh of relief when he went into his bedroom and saw Alexei storing his gun.

“I don’t think they can tell,” he murmured.

Alexei chuckled and walked up to Kent, crowding him back against the wall, next to the open door. He cupped Kent’s cheek and leant in to his ear. “I tell you, I’m best. You believe me now?”

“Fuck,” Kent whispered.

“Oh goodness, y’all didn’t get your fill before we got here?” Bitty chirped with a small giggle. “I’m gonna make pie. Alexei, if you can peel yourself away from that cute boyfriend of yours, you can help.”

“I’m not know how to bake,” Alexei said with a grin as he stepped back from Kent. “But happy to learn!”

*** 

It was how Kent found out Alexei was like an overgrown, eager puppy in the kitchen. Kent and Jack took up the sofa, Kent resting his foot in Jack’s lap as their respective significant others—fake or otherwise—got to work on an apple pie. Kent swore Bitty had to have magicked the ingredients, because Kent couldn’t remember buying fresh apples a day in his life, but however it worked, pie was happening and it was heavenly.

Not just the smells, but the soft laughter in the kitchen.

“Crisse, I haven’t seen you this gone in a long time,” Jack said.

Kent flushed, glancing away. “I’m not,” he started to defend, then huffed. “It’s complicated.”

“But you forget I know what you look like when you’re in love. We may have been teenage disasters, but neither one of us changed that much.”

Kent felt the ache inside, the fierce desire to tell Jack because damn it, keeping all this in was starting to feel a bit much. He was pining and he’d be forced to share a room with the guy and be forced to keep it all under his skin. Something Kent was the worst at.

“Yeah well…whatever. He’s alright.”

“You look happy,” Jack said, and rubbed his hand up and down Kent’s calf. “I…worried. I mean I know people get over these things. Accidents,” he clarified, and Kent winced. “But I keep thinking what it would be like if it was me and I’m not…I’m not sure I’d get through it.”

“You would,” Kent said quickly. “I’m not gonna pretend liked it’s a fuckin’ picnic, you know? Like there are days I don’t wanna get out of bed.” Jack’s hand tightened on his leg, but they’d had this talk before, though Jack hadn’t been as vocal about his fear. “But shit, Zimms, you have something to live for, you know?”

“So do you,” Jack said quietly.

Kent laughed, reaching over to smack his arm. “I know, asshole. I’m not…I’m doing better than I was. The other day was fucking rough on the ice but I made it through. Alexei got me on my skates and it wasn’t…the end of the world, you know?”

“He seems like he’s good for you,” Jack said softly.

Kent swallowed thickly, then glanced over to where Alexei was laughing at the flour-cat-whiskers Bitty had drawn on his face. Bitty had matching ones, and they were taking a selfie, and _fuck_ Kent was falling way too hard.

“Yeah he’s alright.” Kent yawned, then leant back against the cushions. “Wake me up when there’s pie, okay?”

Jack laughed and nodded. “Okay.”

*** 

They skipped the club that night. The grand opening was the following night, and Kent wanted to rest up to prepare. He called in to his manager who assured him everything was running smooth, so they ordered in, and by ten Kent was ready to call it a night.

It was obvious Alexei seemed a little nervous heading off to bed with Jack and Bitty still in the living room watching TV, and when he was checking windows for the fifth time Kent just said, “He’s an anxious guy.” Which wasn’t a lie, he just couldn’t explain why.

But Jack nodded in sympathy and they tried not to stare at Alexei’s night time rituals. Eventually it was time to turn in, which sent Kent’s every nerve on fire as they closed the door. He let out a breath, running his fingers through his hair.

“So uh…”

“I’m not snore,” Alexei said quietly. “Might cuddle in sleep but is okay, I give best cuddles.”

He said it so casually, as though he knew Kent would more than not mind. And for his part, Kent seemed incapable of saying anything in return, and eventually Alexei disappeared behind the bathroom door. When the shower switched on, Kent sank onto the bed, removing his leg, then wriggled into pyjama bottoms which were far too warm for the season, but offered the most fabric between them.

He adjusted his pillow and climbed under the covers, and said a prayer he’d be able to fall asleep before Alexei was finished.

He was not so lucky. The room was dark, but he was wide awake, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as Alexei—in only boxers and a t-shirt, climbed in next to him. There was space between them which felt as vast as an ocean, and Kent had to fight with the almost primal desire to cross it, to let himself curl up into those stupidly long arms, against what was sure to be a warm, comfortable chest.

In the quiet of the night, Alexei turned on his side, then reached out and brushed a lock of Kent’s fringe from his forehead and sighed. “Is going to be okay, Kenny. Everyone safe, everyone happy. Promise.”

Kent wanted to tell Alexei he couldn’t promise that. He was only one man, and the more Kent spent with him, the more he felt the ache of being denied what he wanted. Alexei was too good. He wanted to go back in time and beg Viktor to send him someone cruel, someone with hard, unforgiving edges. Not this kind, soft man who seemed to really like Kent.

It was so much.

But he couldn’t say any of that, so he just sighed, reached out and gave Alexei’s arm a pat, then closed his eyes and prayed for sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Mild violence, gunshot wounds, and blood.
> 
> So this fic is almost over. One more chapter, and I'm probably going to sort it by tomorrow because I'm excited to finish it up! xx

Not that Kent was a romantic, but he couldn’t deny there was a tiny part of him that hoped he’d wake up in the safety of Alexei’s arms. That they might connect gazes and then Alexei would fall for him and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe.

So he couldn’t deny his almost visceral disappointment when he woke up, curled up on his side, facing Alexei who was sprawled out on the other side of the bed. He looked unreasonably attractive like that, as stupid as it was for Kent to even think that. He was on his back, head turned to the side, mouth half-open. He’d lost most of the blankets and sheets during the night, and his shirt had rucked up, boxers slung low, and Kent caught a glimpse of the vicious scars which shone yellow-white against his olive skin.

He had to fight back the very real urge to reach out and touch them.

It was only a few minutes before Alexei began to stir, and he rolled onto his side. His brown eyes opened slowly, and his mouth curved into a curious smile. “Is morning?”

Kent shrugged. “I kind of forgot to set an alarm.” As he spoke, he was overcome with a sudden smell of breakfast food, and his stomach growled loudly. “Fuck. I forgot Bitty’s here.” When Alexei raised a brow, Kent shrugged. “He cooks, like…the most amazing shit.”

“Sounds good. We get up now? Busy day?”

“Grand opening shit,” Kent said. “Which means I gotta be at the club early. I was thinking about taking an uber, and letting Jack and Bits use my car.”

“Is okay. I shower, arrange ride there.”

Kent opened his mouth to argue, but realised it would be pointless, so he sat up and stretched as Alexei climbed off the bed and came round to drop Kent’s crutches against his nightstand. The fact that Alexei remembered Kent hated putting his leg on in the mornings was enough to make his heart pound, and he briefly wondered if there was like an AA type of group he could go to so he could get the fuck over this. The pining was getting stupid.

Luckily, Alexei went easy on him and shut himself in the bathroom, leaving Kent to shrug into some basketball shorts, and make his way to the living room. Jack was on the sofa with coffee, and when Kent tried to get into the kitchen for his own, Bitty shooed him off.

“Go on and sit. I know how you take it.” He froze. “Oh but what about Alexei?”

Kent flushed as he dropped his crutches against the wall and eased himself down next to Jack. “Uh. I’ve only ever seen him take it black, but he’s in the shower right now anyway so…” He trailed off with a shrug.

Bitty shook his head with a fond smile, then returned a minute later with Kent’s coffee—a splash of milk, two sugars. “Breakfast in about twenty.”

Kent mumbled a thanks into the warm brew, and nursed his drink for a bit. He smiled carefully when Jack took his foot into his lap and squeezed his ankle. “Careful,” he chirped, “or my giant Russian boyfriend might get jealous and beat you up.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “So you’re telling me he hasn’t seen you lay all over your team?”

Kent opened his mouth to remind Jack that the Aces weren’t his team anymore—only that wasn’t entirely true and if it hadn’t been for the disaster his life had become over the last few weeks, they probably would have come by, and he would have been draped all over their laps. For all that Kent was kind of an asshole, he’d always been tactile and none of the guys really gave much of a shit.

“He hasn’t uh really…met them,” Kent mumbled. “It’s new. I’m…we’re enjoying ourselves quietly.”

Jack frowned. “Kenny, you know if Bitty and I are…”

“Arrête,” Kent said, waving his hand at Jack. “Pas problème. I like having you two here.”

Jack shrugged, and squeezed his ankle. “Well, if you want some time alone…”

Kent gave him an unamused look, and Jack laughed. “We’ll be fine, Zimms. I have to leave early today anyway. I have a shit-tonne of stuff to do at the club before we open tonight. I figure I’ll give you and Bits the keys to my car, and passes to the rink if you wanna skate. Jeff will be there with the guys, I think. Little Aces end at ten and then there’s an open skate.”

“I did promise I’d stop by,” Jack said.

Before Kent could say anything else, Alexei ventured out wearing jeans and t-shirt. Kent didn’t usually see him so casual. Even inside, Alexei was partial to his button-ups and his jacket which concealed his weapons. Kent didn’t want to ask if Alexei had a gun and if so, where the hell he was hiding it. Either way he was too busy watching how the shirt spread over his pecs, tightened round his biceps.

“You’re drooling,” Jack muttered.

“Oh fuck you,” Kent said back.

Luckily Bitty interrupted everyone with breakfast, and Kent grabbed his crutches, heading into the kitchen just after Jack. He busied himself at the counter, loading a plate of fresh biscuits, eggs, and bacon. He was just reaching for a glass when he felt a hand at the small of his back, then looked over to see Alexei sliding next to him.

Kent nearly choked on his own tongue when Alexei bent down and brushed his lips across Kent’s cheek, and muttered in Russian, “Dobroye utro, solnyshko.”

Kent’s mouth worked, but his face was burning and no sound was coming out. He cleared his throat, but by the time he remembered how to make words work, Alexei had moved on to get his own plate. Kent used one crutch to make his way back to his seat, and focused on his eggs until the burning in his cheeks subsided.

It didn’t help when Alexei slid in next to him, and when Kent glanced over at Jack’s smirk, he flipped him off. “Shut up.”

“It’s cute to see you in love.”

“I…Jesus, Jack. We just…it’s not,” Kent fumbled.

Bitty smacked Jack on the arm. “No tact, this one. He just means he likes seein’ you happy.”

Kent stuffed fork after fork of food in his mouth so he wouldn’t have to talk, and pretended not to see the contemplative look on Alexei’s face.

After a moment, Alexei reached over and gave Kent’s hand a squeeze. “Is okay, I like Kenny very much. Is good to know he seem happy. I want to make happy.” He kissed Kent’s cheek again, and Kent only wanted the earth to open up, and swallow him whole.

*** 

Luckily, after breakfast, Kent had the excuse of showering and getting ready. Alexei stayed out to chat with Jack about hockey and Bitty got to work on pies, determined to fill Kent’s freezer like he always did whenever he came to visit.

Kent took his sweet time in the shower, then on picking out his clothes. He was just shrugging into a pair of his favourite trousers when there was a light knock on the door, and Alexei poked his head in. “Is okay, I come in?”

Kent nodded, turning away to do up the zip. “I’m surprised you got away. Once you get Zimms going on hockey, it’s almost impossible to get him to stop.”

Alexei smiled softly, hanging back a bit as Kent went to work on the shirt buttons. “Is okay, I like hockey. Is easy to talk about.”

“Doesn’t it ever bother you?” Kent asked quietly. “Knowing you could have gone far, but…” He gestured toward Alexei’s hip.

Alexei shrugged. “Many years it bother me but now…” He let out a breath and shrugged. “Is better to be happy, yes? Than unhappy with things you not have ability to change? I can still skate, still play little bit with Mitya. Can skate with you sometime. So is okay.”

Kent took a breath and walked to his mirror, running his hands through his hair. “Wonder if I’ll get there.”

“Yes, you get there,” Alexei said, with such surety that Kent had trouble not believing him. “Is not easy, but you strong guy, Kent. I believe.”

Kent flushed and ducked his head. “Yeah well. Thanks.”

Alexei nodded, then suddenly flushed and said, “I’m want to say sorry, about early in kitchen.”

Kent turned, frowning. “Uh…?”

“With kiss?” Alexei brushed his fingers on his cheeks, making Kent’s entire body light up. “I’m not ask first, but want to seem like couple so…”

“It was fine,” Kent blurted, even though it was only half true. Because it was fine, and fuck he wanted it so badly, but he was having trouble keeping himself distanced. Luckily Jack and Bitty would only be here a few days. Then he’d have a chance to get over this. “Really it’s…I get it, and it’s necessary. I’m sorry they said that stupid shit about me being in love. Jack just…worries.”

“You and Jack used to…together. Yes? Couple?”

Kent turned back to the mirror and began to smear product in his hair. “Uh yeah, but like a million years ago when we were kids. I love the fuck out of him, but we got over it.”

“So it not hard. With itty bitty?”

Kent laughed at the nickname a little harder than he should have, and shook his head. “Nah. Nah Bits is fucking great, and so good for Jack. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Hmm.” 

There was something in Alexei’s tone which made Kent turn. He sat on the bed under the guise of messing with his laces, but he pat the space next to him, and Alexei walked over. “Do you like…need to talk? Is something bothering you?”

Alexei bit his lip, shook his head no first, then nodded. “Is…not easy. I’m live in States little while, long enough to feel safe but is still hard when I think about Russia and…everything.”

“Shit.” Kent said. “Yeah I mean, I get that.”

Alexei gave a helpless shrug. “Things could have been different, maybe but… Sometimes it not work out, sometimes you live with feelings and pain and no way to resolve.”

Kent stared, then it hit him almost suddenly. “Alexei uh… were you and Pasha um…?”

Alexei flushed, looking away. “Little while we…talk about it. He feel…and I feel…love, for each other. But he was being too afraid and…” Alexei shrugged helplessly. “Even when I come here, he cannot feel okay, so I let it go.”

“Shit,” Kent said again.

Alexei shrugged helplessly. “I’m miss him, of course, but respect choices. But then he die and I…” Alexei swallowed thickly, and Kent couldn’t hold back anymore. He dropped his shoe and dragged the other man in for an embrace.

Somehow, as large as he was, Alexei managed to seem small as Kent rubbed his back and whispered stupid, inane shit in his ear to soothe him. It carried on a little while, until Alexei’s shoulders stiffened and he sat up straight.

“Thank you,” he muttered.

Kent gave Alexei’s knee a pat. “I think we’re all a little fucked up, Alyosha. But we’ll work it out.”

Alexei laughed. “I think so. I’m call car now, be here in ten minutes.”

Kent nodded, and watched Alexei leave the room. His arms felt weighted down by the phantom memory of Alexei in them, and he wondered what it was going to take to get over this crush.

*** 

Kent wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when Alexei said he’d take care of the ride to the club. Would it be some like…armoured car? Or non-descript black SUV with guns and shit inside? Instead it was a gold Honda Fit which Alexei could barely squeeze into. Kent was reminded of some joke about Popes in a Volkswagon or something, which he couldn’t entirely remember, but he was pretty sure they currently belonged on some sit-com.

He managed to fit himself in the car no problem, even with his cane resting between his legs, and his prosthetic foot mashed up against the floor of the car, too close to the vent. Kent kept stealing glances at the other man, who eventually sighed and said, “Is all he had short notice,” in a voice so grumpy, it made Kent giggle.

Alexei scowled and Kent looked away. “I’m not,” he giggled, “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. It’s just so…you look so…”

“Haha,” Alexei said, unamused, which only set him off more.

Fortunately—or unfortunately, he could never be sure—Kent’s giggles were contagious and eventually he got Alexei going so at the next stop light, they were both swiping tears away.

“I mean what the fuck kind of mob boss drives a Honda Fit?” Kent gasped.

Alexei chuckled. “He cares about environment. All mafia go green, you know.”

“Oh my god,” Kent said, shaking his head softly. “What the fuck did I get myself into?”

“I’m not sure,” Alexei said with a wink, “but is for life.”

Well that was a sobering thought, and Kent’s giggles dried up fast. “Hah uh. Right.”

Alexei seemed to notice the shift in moods, and he quickly reached over, giving Kent’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m promise, is not so bad. We take care of family, Kenny.”

Kent couldn’t begin to explain how that was the fucking problem, that Alexei would be in his life in some capacity forever so he could kiss getting over this crush goodbye. Not that Kent wasn’t a fucking expert at pining, but he was hoping for at least a small reprieve. Or maybe even hoping the next guy he fell for might actually like him back.

Of course leave it to Kent to fall for the dude with the gun who was currently fending off someone who might want to kill him but you know…semantics.

They fell into a silence which once might have been awkward, but now felt fairly easy. The employee car park was nearly full, it was all hands on deck and would be all weekend which was good. It meant Kent would be busy and distracted, and Alexei could do his thing until Jack and Bitty arrived, and no one would bother him about it.

Kent got one, lingering look back at Alexei before they stepped in, and then Kent gave himself in to the chaos.

*** 

The music was thrumming loud and almost overwhelming by the time Jack and Bitty arrived. By then, Kent had finished with the press, had welcomed the guys from the teams who’d flown out—most of them either from the Schooners, all of the Aces, of course, a couple of the guys from Boston and Philly, and surprisingly the Stars.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. The bartender the manager had hired had come up with a massive list of hockey-themed drinks. Kent was currently on his third Hat Trick of the evening, feeling loose-limbed and actually enjoying himself. 

Presently Jack was stood behind Bitty, his arms round his boyfriend’s waist, moving with more rhythm than Kent knew he was capable of—even if he wasn’t exactly dancing. And Kent had a hand on Alexei’s waist, finding a new rhythm with a new balance in his legs, but letting himself forget for a little while how much had changed, and who, exactly the man was currently running his strong, warm fingers up and down his spine.

Kent spotted Jeff halfway into the next song, walking toward them, and Kent caught his breath. Jeff, the only other one who knew what was going on. Jeff was wearing a smirk as he slid up, and tapped Alexei on the shoulder.

“Yo, do you mind if I cut in?”

Alexei raised a brow. “Hockey player want to steal cute boyfriend?”

Jeff threw his head back and laughed. “Bro, trust me, I do not have the strength to take on a relationship with Parser. But he kind of looks like he could use a refill.”

Kent licked his lips, then sucked in a breath when Alexei’s fingers brushed his as the taller man grabbed his glass. “I’m be back shortly. Don’t forget me,” Alexei murmured in Kent’s ear.

Kent went hot all over, and he ignored the looks Jack and Bitty were giving him as Jeff slid in and took Alexei’s place. He had both hands on Kent’s waist, and dragged him in. “What the fuck are you doing, Kent?”

Kent sighed. “Dude, I can’t tell Zimms, can I? We’re just…playing it up.”

“You fucking want him,” Jeff said. “Are you gonna tell him?”

“I don’t,” Kent started, but Jeff pushed him back and gave him a deadpan stare.

“Don’t lie to me, Parse.”

Kent dragged a hand down his face, then said, “Only under dire circumstances. Because I have no idea when he’s gonna leave and I’m not about to tell some dude forced to live with me that I really wanna climb him like a fucking tree, okay?”

Jeff shook his head, and spotted Alexei returning with two drinks in his hands. Before he was within earshot, Jeff leant in and said, “For what it’s worth, I think he’d be into it.” He stepped back as Alexei pushed what looked like a cold glass of water into Kent’s hands. “Nice job tonight. Everyone fuckin’ loves it. I’d call it a success.” Jeff passed Jack, clapping him, then Bitty on the shoulder and chirped, “See you in a few weeks, Zimmboni, when I wipe the ice with you.”

Jack flipped him off and Alexei chuckled as he drew Kent close again. “How is leg?”

Kent shrugged. “I’m doing alright. Alcohol helps. But uh…thanks for the water.”

Alexei nodded. “Stay sober. I’m see face I don’t like. Familiar, I think. I call up Viktor who come here soon.” When Kent started to look panicked, Alexei put a hand to his cheek and leant in as close as he could manage. “Is okay, no one get hurt, no one notice. Promise. Everyone you care about stay safe.”

Kent nodded, but he was on edge for the rest of the night.

Unfortunately being the owner, it wasn’t all drinks and dancing. He handled several crises, including a few in the kitchen, and an issue when a few of the players took their chirping a bit too seriously and were nearly thrown out. But otherwise the party was a hit, and though Kent was watching Alexei watch the crowd, he didn’t notice anyone suspicious.

No guns were drawn, no knives. No one was threatened, and Viktor didn’t even make an appearance.

When the club shut down, everyone was beyond exhausted, but Kent felt easy and comfortable in the arm Alexei loped round his waist. “We go home now,” Alexei insisted. He turned to Jack, “You have car? I can drive, not drinking much.”

Jack nodded, then banged the keys over to Alexei as he reached for Bitty who had definitely gotten a lot drunker than the rest of them. The small baker was swaying on his feet, leaning into Jack, and Jack chirped, “Almost like Spring C, eh?”

“Shut up,” Bitty muttered.

Jack giggled and kissed Bitty on the tip of his nose. “Drink water when we get home, bud. You’ll thank me later.”

Bitty just nodded absently, and Kent allowed himself to lean heavily on Alexei as he waved goodbye to the manager who was sorting out the final closing duties. They left through the back entrance, and everything seemed good.

“You know what,” Jack said, staring at Kent, “let me get the car and pull it around. It’s parked kind of far.”

Kent started to nod when suddenly Alexei’s arm disappeared. “Wait here,” he barked at Kent.

Kent froze, and watched Alexei take a few steps down the alley.

When Kent thought back on what happened later, it would all seem surreal. He wasn’t even sure how he noticed it. Really he saw the flash of metal, and he reacted. He wasn’t even sure he could run that fast with his prosthetic and he vaguely remembered searing paid as he pushed himself through it.

The figure in the shadows raised the gun, and Kent dove. There was a sharp crack in the air as Kent’s body collided with Alexei’s, and they went down, down, down. Kent waited, eyes screwed shut. He’d done everything like they had in the movies, and Kent was supposed to be the one who was shot—the one who had taken the bullet.

He waited for the pain.

He flinched when there were two more, loud but far more dulled cracks, then the sound of another body hitting the street. Somewhere in the background of his shock, Kent could hear Jack swearing in French, and Bitty panicking, and a car pulling up.

But he wasn’t paying attention to any of that. Beneath him, Alexei was groaning, and pressing his fingers to his shoulder which was now leaking blood all over.

“Fuck,” Kent said, scrambling off to the side. “Oh fuck, oh shit you’re shot oh god. What do I…oh my god do I call an ambulance or…?”

“Come,” barked another, familiar voice. Kent looked up to see Viktor stood over them. “You take hurt shoulder, I take other. Get him in the car.”

Kent looked off and saw a massive SUV waiting with the back doors open. Bitty was already in the front seat, looking pale and terrified, and Jack was in the back…waiting.

“Now, move,” Viktor said, then barked a few more instructions in Russian before Kent scrambled to his feet.

It was difficult getting Alexei up, but he could walk, and he stumbled until they were seated in the SUV. Viktor banged a couple of thick flannels at Kent and said, “Put pressure on it.”

“Uh…there’s a…a body,” Kent stuttered.

“I call team, is okay, gone before anyone see,” Viktor said.

Kent didn’t even want to think what a clean-up might entail, so he busied himself with putting pressure on Alexei’s wound. He was spread out, his feet in Jack’s lap, head in Kent’s, and his breathing was shallow and laboured.

“Que se passe-t-il?” Jack demanded.

“Plus tard,” Kent said, his tone begging. “Please just…” He looked down at Alexei who was really pale, and his eyes were half-lidded. He looked like those dudes in the movies who were laying in their lovers’ arms, bleeding out. Dying. “Fuck, Alexei. Don’t die, okay. Don’t fucking die.”

Alexei blinked slowly, then breathed out, then shut his eyes.

Kent felt a sob welling in his throat, and he pressed on the wound harder, and dipped his head, brushing his lips across Alexei’s forehead. “Fuck. Please don’t be dead. Jesus. I need to…I fucking like you and you cannot die on me like this. Do you hear me?”

There was a quiet chuckle, and Kent’s eyes flew open wide as a soft hand touched his cheek. Alexei was smiling. “I’m hope you like me, wasn’t sure.”

“Did you just fucking pretend to be dead?” Kent all-but shouted.

Alexei shrugged, then winced at the pain. “Maybe. Is only way, I’m think, so you tell me.”

“You are such a fucking asshole,” Kent growled, but in all honesty, he was too filled with relief to even be properly upset about it. “Fucking…you’re not actually dying, are you?”

Alexei laughed. “No, solnyshko. Is small wound. Will get bullet out at Viktor’s. Will be okay, I promise.”

“I hope so, because I’m gonna kick your ass,” Kent growled. He tried not to think about how Alexei hadn’t seen the gun, and if he hadn’t acted, Alexei would have been shot and probably killed and Kent would be feeling entirely different right now. Fuck. “I’m gonna kiss you. Then I’m gonna kick your ass,” he amended.

Alexei chuckled again, then pressed a kiss to the inside of Kent’s wrist. “Maybe shower. My blood all over your hands.”

“I hate you,” Kent snarled, but he also knew those words meant something else entirely.

*** 

At Viktor’s, Alexei was whisked off, and Jack and Bitty were put in the parlour to wait as Viktor had Kent washing up and changing his shirt. They were in a guest bathroom, which was almost as big as Kent’s master suite bathroom, and the older man was leaning against the door.

“You will tell friends?”

Kent sighed as he scrubbed the rusty brown colour from his fingers. “I uh…don’t exactly have a choice, do I? For what it’s worth, they’re really good guys and I don’t think they’re going to say anything stupid.”

Viktor gave him a long look, then sighed. “If you trust, then I trust. Maybe I speak to them too. After.”

Kent nodded. “Yeah, probably a good idea.” He pulled off his bloodied shirt and Viktor opened a plastic bag for it. Kent knew he was kissing the clothes goodbye, not that it mattered in the end. He grabbed another flannel and began to scrub at the smears across his chest. “Is Alexei…is he gonna be…okay?”

Viktor gave him a soft smile. “Da. He have much worse in the past, is okay.”

“And the shit at my club…?”

“Is finished. Was last guy,” Viktor said slowly. “Was working all these weeks, taking care of problem. No one know is you, Kent. But know Alexei involved, know about Mitya. You are safe.”

“So he can…Alexei can…”

“I’m think you talk to him about that,” Viktor said with a knowing grin on his face. He passed a pair of joggers to Kent, and a t-shirt which was a size too big, not that it mattered.

“You heard what I said, didn’t you?” Kent asked with a blush. He adjusted his leg which was aching fiercely, and fought back the urge to just pull it off. “Look, I didn’t meant to like…catch feelings for him. And I uh…”

“Is okay,” Viktor said again. “He like you, he tell me this. Is hoping you might feel the same. I not think he wants to get shot to hear it but…” Viktor shrugged. “You talk to him after friends. Stay here for the weekend, I make sure is all safe.”

Kent nodded, and deeply dreaded the conversation he was about to have with Jack and Bitty, but he didn’t exactly have a choice. And frankly he didn’t want to know what Viktor might be capable of if Jack or Bitty refused to keep this quiet.

He was half-trembling by the time he made it to the parlour. Bitty was wide awake, definitely scared into sobriety, and he was tucked into Jack’s side. Jack was looking thoroughly unimpressed, but beneath that was worry.

Kent eased himself down, grimacing at the pain, but he ignored it and in very Kent-like fashion, he opened his mouth and word-vomited the entire story. From the moment he’d found Dmitri, to the moment he was confessing his love in the stupid SUV.

When he was done, his shaking hand passed over his face, and he dared a look at his friends. “Just tell me you two can keep this quiet.”

“Not that we have a choice,” Jack said with a tiny growl, then softened, “but we wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. And it sounds like you were just trying to protect the kid which…I would have done the same thing.”

“Even not calling the cops?”

“Considering?” Jack said, shrugging. “Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have either. But are you…Kenny, are you going to be safe?” His tone was terrified, and Kent sighed quietly, shifting so he could lean into Jack.

He smiled softly when he felt Bitty’s hand close over his own. “I’m gonna be fine. Viktor says it’s all taken care of. No one even knows it’s me, so they probably don’t know either of you were there. He wants us to stay the weekend and make sure you know…it’s all good. But he’s pretty certain the issue is finished.”

After a minute of cuddles, Jack gave Kent’s shoulder a push. “You should go upstairs, eh? Make sure Alexei’s okay?”

Kent flushed, then nodded. “Yeah I…probably. Yeah.”

Bitty laughed. “Tell him we hope he feels better soon.”

Kent rolled his eyes, but stood up and headed out of the room. Viktor was waiting, within earshot, so Kent didn’t have to ask if he’d heard it all. “Up the stairs, on right, third door,” was all Viktor said to him.

Kent nodded, then gripped the banister hard, and eased his way up. His leg was screaming in pain, his phantom foot burning like it was on fire, but he pushed it aside knowing that in a second, he was going to see Alexei. Alexei, who knew how he felt. Alexei, who apparently felt the same way.

Kent was suddenly overcome with worry. What if it was the pain? What if it was the shock of being shot that made him say those things. Then his brain reminded him of the quiet, subtle things Alexei had been doing since he met Kent, and for a minute, Kent let himself have hope.

He knocked, then pushed open the door and found Alexei propped up against pillows. He was shirtless, his shoulder bandaged, and he immediately held out his uninjured arm for Kent. Kent wasted no time, easing himself onto the bed, and let out a puff of air.

“Hurts?” Alexei asked.

Kent rolled his eyes toward the other man. “You just got shot and you’re asking if I’m in pain?”

“Was long night,” Alexei said with a shrug. “You sleep here. Take off, get comfortable.”

Kent wanted to protest, but taking the damn prosthetic off was plenty enough to motivate him, and he eased it down, then propped it against the side of the nightstand. The pain didn’t let up right away, but stretching and flexing his short muscle felt nice, and when Alexei tugged him up against his chest, Kent realised that that was enough of a painkiller in itself.

Soft fingers brushed through his hair, and he pushed his cheek against the side of Alexei’s chest. “So that fucking sucked.”

Alexei’s laugh was deep, rumbling in his chest. “Yes. Was not fun.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

Alexei was silent for a minute, then said, “Not too much, but sometimes. Is my reality. I understand is not…conventional. Maybe not safe. Maybe you not want…”

Kent twisted, reaching up to press the pad of his finger against Alexei’s mouth, and he shook his head. “Just…shut up, okay? Right now you could have died, and you didn’t—you’re fucking welcome, by the way, and I just wanna bask in this. Because I like you and apparently you like me back.”

Alexei pursed his lips against Kent’s finger, in a short kiss before curling his fingers round Kent’s wrist and pulling his hand down. Letting go, he pinched Kent by the chin, and turned his face up. “I’m like you, very much. For long time now. I’m think since I see you. You’re brave, Kenny. And yes, save my life, probably. So…thank you.”

“I was kidding about the thanks,” Kent muttered, and Alexei laughed.

“Is okay for me to say thank you,” Alexei said. “I want to be with you, Kenny. You trying to learn Russian, eat my blini, funny guy and make me smile.”

Kent felt a warmth rushing through him. “Yeah well…”

Alexei shook his head. “No, is all good things, all things I want. I’m miss Pasha but it was never…would have never be like this.” His fingers left Kent’s chin to brush along his cheek, then up into his hair. “I want to kiss you.”

Kent let out a sharp breath, then surged up so his nose bumped against Alexei’s large one. “That’s the best fucking idea you’ve ever had.”

Alexei laughed again, then cupped Kent’s cheek, and then kissed him. It was soft, needy, breathy. Alexei’s tongue was big and heavy, like the rest of him, filling Kent’s mouth, dominating it. Kent nearly lost himself in the sensation, and in spite of being in pain, and more exhausted than he’d ever been, he still got half hard at the thought of what else they could do in the future—when they were over having nearly died.

When Alexei pulled away, he tugged Kent back against him, then shifted until the blankets rested at their waists, and he shuffled down to curl round Kent gently. “We talk more in the morning. I’m stay. Protect you.”

“But Viktor said…” Kent began, but Alexei shook his head.

“I know, but I’m stay anyway. Protect, Kenny. Always.”

Kent sighed, then pushed his face into the crook of Alexei’s neck. “Okay, but I get to protect you too.”

Alexei laughed delightedly and held on tight. “Okay, solnyshko. Okay.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is just a short final chapter which is basically an epilogue to the whole thing. I'll probably at some point write a follow-up in this universe--maybe years down the road, Patater parents and maybe Kent is coaching or something. IDK. Either way, I loved writing this! Thanks so much for all the comments, you've all been amazing.

Kent startled when warm arms came round his waist, and a slightly cold, very large nose pushed against the skin of his neck. “Busy?”

Kent, who had been absently staring at a sandwich he wasn’t hungry for, shook his head. The warmth of Tater wrapped round him was almost too much to bear. The events from before were threatening to crash around him, and Kent was barely hanging on. He wasn’t sure what any of this meant, really, moving forward. Now that Alexei wasn’t supposed to be following his every step, anyway.

He couldn’t know if it was the stress of the situation, the forced proximity, that caused his feelings, or Alexei’s. But after his handful of disastrous relationships in his past, he had little faith in himself.

“Uh, no,” he finally said. “Not really.” He glanced out of his periphery and saw the upward curve of Alexei’s smile. “Isn’t that hurting your shoulder?”

Alexei huffed a laugh. “Is okay, I have much worse before. Not bother me much.”

The wound itself had been fairly clean. Whomever Viktor had treating it got the bullet out, cleaned up, and stitched back together. Alexei didn’t need more than a bandage, and he’d been moving around since morning without a problem.

Kent wasn’t exactly sure how to process that, either. The fact that this guy could weather a gunshot wound like it was nothing. Yet, when Alexei moved away from him, he felt the loss like a physical ache. Much like when he woke up, warm and comfortable in the morning, and when he’d risen from the bed to get ready for the day, he ached to be back under the covers, in the safety of those massive arms.

He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Is there something you wanted to do?”

Alexei looked almost sheepish, and held out a hand for Kent. “I’m like to show you something. But we have to take drive. Is…okay?”

Kent was startled. “Uh. I mean I guess yeah, but Jack and Bitty…”

“I’m speak to them. They are having nice time in the pool. I tell them we be back soon.”

“Okay uh. Well. Let me grab my phone.”

There was a tiny part of him which wildly thought, ‘what if this is like one of those movie things where all the witnesses had to be eliminated.’ But he didn’t actually believe that, and when he found Alexei waiting for him in the lounge, he looked nervous, but not the sort that made Kent feel like he was in danger. And he most definitely couldn’t help a smile when Alexei reached out and tangled their fingers together.

When they headed outside, they went for Kent’s car, and when Alexei got behind the wheel, Kent sighed. “Seriously, am I ever gonna drive again?”

Alexei laughed. “Maybe let you drive home, but you not know where we going, Kenny.”

Kent felt a warmth in his chest at the easy way Alexei spoke, at the familiarity of him in all of Kent’s spaces. He sat back and when they hit the road, Alexei tried to change the radio, but Kent smacked his hands away. “You get the wheel, then I get the music, asshole.”

Alexei threw his head back and laughed. “Fine. Is okay, I teach you better music taste later.”

“I don’t even want to know what you were going to put on,” Kent grumbled, but he said it with a grin that only got wider when Alexei reached over and rested his hand on Kent’s knee.

Whatever it was they were doing, Alexei was making it very plain he was all in. The thought made Kent’s head spin, warm and fuzzy with want. Even if he tried to talk himself out of this, he doubted he’d be successful.

The drive took nearly forty-five minutes, which made Kent anxious. They were heading away from the city, and eventually took a turn into a neighbourhood which was oddly more lush than most of vegas. It wasn’t until they took a turn and Kent saw a wide spread of wrought iron gates, and a smattering of headstones that he knew where they were going.

It hit him sudden, and he found himself, in a way, nervous.

“Is private place,” Alexei said as he pulled the car to a stop. He switched it off, but neither of them moved just yet. “We think a long time, about take Pasha back to Russia but was not safe. Viktor think he be okay here, and now that Mitya is here…is better.”

Kent nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. He’d never lost anyone like that before. Perhaps what happened with Jack was the closest, but they’d both been so young and both so fucked up at the time, it didn’t feel the same as this.

He reached for Alexei, but his hand met empty air. Alexei was already out of the car, so Kent quickly followed suit.

The ground was uneven, and he hadn’t thought to bring his cane, but when he leant into Alexei’s body, the other man didn’t seem to mind it. He merely slung his arm round Kent’s waist and provided him a silent support.

Most of the headstones were written in Russian, but they bore Hebrew as well, and a few of them with the Star of David. They moved along them until they came to the far back row, and Alexei released Kent as he knelt down and began to talk in rapid-fire Russian.

Kent could pick out a few words here and there, but most of it was lost to him. Not that he minded. It was a private moment, he supposed, and he felt weird about being here at all. At least until Alexei turned and grabbed Kent’s hand, tugging him until Kent awkwardly arranged his leg, and sat on the ground beside the other man.

“I’m tell him about you,” Alexei said. His voice was thick, though he wasn’t close to crying. “What you do for Mitya. What you do for me.”

Kent startled, staring at Alexei. “I didn’t…shit, Alyosha, I didn’t do anything for you.” He blushed suddenly, the way the familiar name just tumbled from his lips. He winced, but Alexei didn’t do more than smile fondly.

“Kenny,” he said slowly, “you do so much. Save Mitya, put yourself in danger, protect even if it means you not safe.” Reaching out, Alexei rested his hand on Kent’s knee. “I think Pasha would have like you. He have good taste, like me.”

Kent raised a brow. “That’s fuckin’ debatable,” he said dryly. “Trust me, I’m a disaster.”

Alexei let out a tiny sigh, then shifted so he was behind Kent, holding him. It was strange, an awkward way to be sat, on someone’s grave. Someone Alexei had once been in love with. Yet it was warm, and maybe, he realised, this was something Alexei needed. Kent allowed himself to lean back into the embrace, and he felt Alexei relax against him.

“Is okay you think that now. I tell you enough you good guy, Kenny, and someday you believe me.”

Kent let his eyes close and bit back the argument because he was so used to insisting he wasn’t worth it. But maybe he should let himself have this. He’d already been kicked in the balls repeatedly by the Universe, and maybe it was time to just let himself have something.

“We should go on a date,” Kent muttered a little while later as they were walking back to the car. Their hands were linked together, Alexei swinging their hands back and forth in an absent gesture. He glanced over to see the other man staring at him, and his cheeks went warm as he shrugged. “I mean, we haven’t done anything normally, but I think I might like a date.”

Alexei’s smile was warm, like the sun—soft and encompassing. “Yes. I’m take you out. Nice place. Your favourite.”

“You know what my favourite is?” Kent asked.

Alexei laughed. “No! But you tell me, and I learn. Is point of date, yes? Learn all these things about each other.” He went as far as to open Kent’s door and when Kent scowled at him, he leant in and kissed him on the tip of the nose. “You appreciate me someday,” he whispered.

Kent gave him a shove, but inside he was thinking, _I already do._

*** 

Still a little freaked, but sworn to silence and with several promises that they’d return to see the club without someone getting shot, Kent and Alexei took Jack and Bits to the airport to see them off. They hung round a little after the pair had gone through security, then slowly made their way back to Kent’s car.

Kent startled when Alexei pushed the keys into his hand, and muttered, “It’s about fuckin’ time.”

Alexei laughed himself all the way home when, ten minutes on the road, Kent got a speeding ticket.

*** 

Alexei packed to go home the first night, but ended up never leaving. They ordered Greek for delivery, and stayed up too late with half a bottle of wine and Netflix. When Alexei leant in and whispered, “Is this part where we chill?” Kent couldn’t keep himself from pinning him to the sofa and kissing him until they both couldn’t breathe.

They somehow made it back to the bedroom where Kent threw Kit out, and they giggled until her disgruntled meowing stopped. “She’s gonna cough up a hairball in my best shoes, just watch,” Kent muttered as he laid, spread out on the duvet, shirtless, with Alexei paying worship to his torso. “Fuck…fuck, right there,” he gasped, arching against Alexei’s mouth.

“Want you,” Alexei muttered against flushed skin. “Want this, so long I want this, Kenny…”

Hands were everywhere after that. Kent was so far gone, he needed Alexei’s help to get out of his jeans, and get his leg off, and his pants got caught round his ankle, but Kent gasped, “Fuck it, ignore it,” as Alexei’s fingers closed round him.

He was hard, and too close, and it was so much. Alexei seemed to notice, and he backed up, letting Kent go in favour of drawing lazy lines up and down his ribs, following with insistent, soft kisses. “So beautiful, Kenny.”

Kent, who had never felt unattractive, but had struggled with the way his body looked now—not the way it used to and sometimes feeling like it wasn’t whole anymore—felt his eyes get warm. “I…Alyoshenka I…”

“I know,” Alexei muttered against his chin, nipping against his jawline. “I know, Kenny. Believe me.”

Kent’s hands wandered, his fingertips brushing over thick, puckered scar tissue and he realised that Alexei _did_ know. At least, better than anyone else in his life did, and he let out a small sob as he turned his face, mouth seeking Alexei’s for a filthy, sloppy kiss.

Their tongues twisted together, wet and hot as their fingers brought each other over the edge, and when Kent was gasping against Alexei’s shoulder, he could hear the other man whispering in broken, shattered Russian.

It was so fucking hot. For all he knew, he was muttering a list of text book titles, except the look in his eyes when he pulled back and stared at Kent told a different story. Shaking a little, Kent brought his hand up and touched Alexei’s cheek. “Stay,” he said.

Alexei nodded, his lips quirking up just slightly, and he grabbed the pants from round Kent’s ankle and used them to swipe the mess off their stomach and knuckles. He banged them to the side, then slid the duvet up round their waists and let Kent spoon him from behind.

“I’m stay as long as you want,” Alexei said quietly.

“Okay,” Kent breathed back. He wasn’t sure how long that would be, but for now he took comfort in this, in wanting it, and allowing himself to have it. He pushed his forehead against the skin between Alexei’s shoulder blades and whispered into the dark, “I’m pretty sure I’m falling for you.”

Alexei let out a small chuckle as he twisted their fingers together. “I’m already fall,” he muttered. “But is okay, because you were there to catch me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr [omgittybits](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/omgittybits)


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